


In The Spotlight

by panpinecone



Series: Spotlight [1]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Awkwardness, Crossdressing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Derogatory Language, Diary/Journal, Dom/sub Undertones, Exhibitionism, F/M, Family Dynamics, Fantasizing, Friendship, Frottage, Gift Giving, Huddling For Warmth, M/M, Making Out, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Parties, Performing Arts, Practice Kissing, Recreational Drug Use, Road Trips, Sneaking Around, Social Anxiety, Studying, Teaching, Touching, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-09-26 21:00:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 44
Words: 136,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17149013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panpinecone/pseuds/panpinecone
Summary: Sam expects his senior year to go off without a hitch. Sam is wrong.





	1. Pilot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All conversations Sam has with his family are in Spanish. For ease of reading, they're already translated to English within the text, and their syntax may occasionally reflect that.

The summer before Sam’s senior year, his family moved to a small house on the outskirts of a town in the middle of nowhere.

The upside to this was the desolation itself. Sam had never enjoyed the hustle and bustle of living in a densely packed city, nor the towering buildings and overbearing smog. He was thankful for the fact that their new house wasn’t located in some suburban area with prying eyes on all sides. Not that there weren’t neighboring houses in its vicinity, but the cover of trees helped put his mind at ease and afforded him a sense of privacy.

A quiet town with sparse neighborhoods and surrounding forests? It was the closest he’d ever gotten to his ideal.

He wondered if his parents had chosen it with him in mind.

On the drive to the house, he’d noted how poorly maintained the street was, as well as spotting even less maintained streets branching off of it— no doubt leading to equally unmaintained houses. Not that his new house was poorly maintained, but it was nothing special. None of the houses he’d seen on the way over had looked much better either.

As soon as he and his parents moved their things in and settled down, he took it upon himself to go exploring.

He took off down the main road, breathing in the fresh air and planning out possible camping trips. He’d only had the opportunity to do so a few times in his life, but had immensely enjoyed each and every one. Theoretically, he should be able to camp out in his new backyard, but he didn’t quite trust the neighbors enough—or at all, really—for that just yet.

At the end of the road, the trees abruptly cut off, leaving the space at the edge of the highway free and clear. Sam looked both ways.

The only sound was the chirping of birds.

He crossed the small highway and turned to look back at the road he’d come from. The trees kept him from seeing any of the houses on his street, battered mailboxes being his only hint that they were there.

It was perfect.

After a few minutes of standing around, taking in the atmosphere and almost daring some car to roar past and disrupt the tranquility, he grew convinced that this had been his family’s best move yet. Despite not having seen the town itself, Sam knew he’d have no shortage of things to do. Whether it was staying indoors or going outside, he was certain he’d enjoy his time there.

Of course, that calm could only last for the rest of the summer. Once the school year started, he imagined he’d have his plans upended. Classes and assignments were only half the battle. He’d also have to learn the school’s layout, contend with a myriad of teenage peers, and who knew what else.

Yes, he was a teenager himself, but that was beside the point.

He focused on enjoying the calm while it lasted. Rare were the days he spent completely indoors, the allure of a fresh breeze and stretching his legs always present.

Most days were pleasantly sunny, and on those, he’d walk up and down his street once or twice, linger in the backyard a while, and occasionally settle down on the porch with a book to read.

On the rare rainy days, he enjoyed lingering just outside his house, breathing in the static of the air and watching the skies darken. Once the first raindrops hit, he’d return to the safety of the indoors, relaxing on his bed and reading to the sound of the rain. On those days, if it stopped raining before dark, he had a fantastic time returning outdoors. The world seemed refreshed, cleansed, the dying plants either washed away or rejuvenated.

Puddles were also fun.

During the evening, he’d have dinner with his parents, listening to their chatter and occasionally inputting his own. More often than not, he would then either join them for television or a movie, or head straight to his room to read his books and watch his shows.

Those nights were enjoyable, and simple, and something he could always do in the city.

What he couldn’t always do in the city was camp outside, which was why the nights he did do it were the most exciting.

He hadn’t seen much of the neighbors, but from what he could tell, they weren’t in the habit of prowling around others’ backyards in the middle of the night. As such, he found a quiet spot amid the trees and set up a shabby tent that he’d conserved from his childhood. It wasn’t particularly big, but he didn’t need much more than a clear space to curl up, shielded from the elements.

His parents had fretted of course, reminding him he was free to come back inside at any point he wished. He’d thanked them and headed to his tent for the night, where he promptly stayed until morning.

And then he repeated the whole process on at least five different nights— he wasn’t sure if the sixth time counted, given that it was during the day and with the tent flap open, but it _was_ for most of that day.

Summer went by and Sam enjoyed himself to the fullest.

And then one afternoon, he checked the mailbox to find a letter from his soon-to-be school. He took it inside and, accompanied by his parents, opened it.

Enclosed were various papers and pamphlets. The gist of it all was that the school was pleased to welcome him, urged his parents to call if they had any questions or concerns, and implored him to fill out the attached paperwork and mail it back by a certain date. That date was two weeks before the first day of school, and the paperwork all consisted of basic informational requirements.

He dutifully filled it out, only stopping at the final page, titled _Electives_. There was a blurb explaining that all students were required to take one elective each year, and that in his particular case, he’d be allowed to graduate despite his previous schools not enforcing similar policies. The rest of the page was dedicated to a list of possible class choices and another blurb. This one asked him to rank his top three choices.

‘ _We do our best to prioritize all students’ elective preferences, but it will often become impossible due to the popularity of some classes. In these cases, we will prioritize your second and third choices_.’

Sam had never taken electives before. He considered the list. Despite not particularly long or varied, to him it seemed endless. How could he choose?

It was alright, he still had plenty of time to think about it and make a decision.

He set the page aside for later.

 

* * *

 

He had to mail the form back and was no closer to making a decision.

Art was a wasted choice. He was savvy enough to know it was likely one of those popular classes that few had a chance of getting into.

Spanish would be an easy grade, but also a waste of time. He didn’t like the idea of everyone staring at him in judgement for an entire class period either.

Music was appealing, but he ultimately felt the drawbacks outweighed the benefits. Carrying around an expensive instrument for the entire school day could only lead to disaster.

Drama was probably easy to get into, since he was sure it was unpopular for exactly the same reasons that he very much didn’t want to get into it.

There were several sports options available as well, which led him to believe that what would normally be considered an extracurricular, such as joining the football team, was considered a full-fledged class by the school.

He’d deliberated over those the most. He knew he was fit as a direct result of his natural metabolism and love of outdoor activities. But was fitness justification enough to join a sports team? He’d never enjoyed the brash attitude associated with it, nor the idea of mercilessly going after an opposing team.

But he had to choose.

Didn’t he?

He could always leave the form blank and hope for the best...

Or ask for some guidance.

He brought it up at the dinner table. He listed off the choices, all of which he’d memorized after mulling them over for so long. His parents listened to him rattle off the pros and cons of each, and when he finished his impromptu speech with a plea for help, their faces made it evident that they’d seen it coming a mile away.

“Sami,” his mother sighed, “you should take the one you like most. Isn't there any you prefer?”

“No...”

She shared a brief look with his father, and upon coming to some sort of unspoken agreement, turned back to Sam.

“Sure? No preference?”

Sam looked down at his plate. “Art would be easy,” he said. “Spanish more so. Music is interesting. Dr—”

“Sami, Sami, you already said all that. There’s none that calls to you more than the others?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I asked you.”

His mother hummed, then pushed away her plate. “I have an idea. You don’t have to like it, but I think it could be good for you. And I think I’m not the only one who’s thinking of it.”

She looked over at his father again, who immediately nodded and spoke up. “I thought about it as soon as I heard it was an option,” he said excitedly.

Sam looked back and forth between them in confusion.

“Sami... You’ve always been very quiet,” his mother explained. “And that’s not bad. We love you how you are. But...” She trailed off again, as if considering her words. “It would be good for you to try new things. After all, it’s your last year before college, and you’re going to have to be able to talk with your professors. Maybe they’ll even ask you to give presentations in front of the class. Remember that time you froze up when—”

“ _Yes_.”

She gave him a sympathetic look, and his father picked up where she left off. “If you take drama, it’d help you a great deal. Sure, it’d be difficult at first. New things always are. But if it helped you even a little bit, it’d be very good for your future.”

Sam had a feeling they knew his opinion just from looking at him.

“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to,” his mother spoke again. “We want you to be happy, and we have your best interests in mind. That was just our suggestion. Maybe we’re wrong, so do what you feel is best.”

Sam nodded and ate the rest of his dinner in silence.

That night, he went to bed and tossed and turned, lost in thought as to what he should do. He knew he was making a far bigger deal out of it than he should. It was a single class! Whatever he chose, he’d only have to deal with it for an hour a day at most, and after a few months it would all be over and done with.

He growled in frustration and stood from his bed, walking over to where he’d left the school’s forms. The _Electives_ paper lay separate from the main pile, completely blank and innocently staring up at him.

In a way, he knew his parents had a point. That didn’t mean he had to like it.

He marked a decisive **1** in the spot beside drama, then folded up the forms and stuffed them into the school-provided envelope.

He’d mail it out tomorrow.

 

* * *

 

It was only a few days later that he realized he forgot to choose a second and third elective preference.

 

* * *

 

The days leading up to the school year’s official start were filled with a mix of new stationery, new clothes, and new things for him to be anxious about. He’d been through his fair share of schools before, and was no stranger to the process of becoming acquainted with everything for the first time. All the same, he couldn’t help worrying over it.

The best he could hope for was to be left to his own devices, which mostly consisted of being a capable student and nothing else. He’d never had much of a social life, even in his younger days, and that situation had only solidified with age. After school, he always went straight home to complete any homework, then devoted the rest of the day to his hobbies.

Fortunately, he usually _was_ left to his own devices at school. Being the resident new kid meant no one had much of an incentive to befriend him, and his own solitary nature further reinforced that. The few attempts people made tended to die out after his lukewarm responses.

It wasn’t his fault that their small talk didn’t merit much more than that.

But now he had a new and exciting source of anxiety: Drama.

He was well aware that he himself had made the choice to sign up for it. Certainly, his parents had been the ones to suggest it, but beyond their reasoning, had exerted no pressure on him to follow their advice.

In all honesty, he wasn’t sure why he’d done it. He supposed it seemed like a good idea at the time. That and the fact that he’d rather be twisting and turning in bed over a choice he did make than a choice he didn’t.

Still, it couldn’t be that bad, right? Like he’d initially thought, it was bound to be an unpopular class. No one else would want to be there either, and no one would judge him for what was frankly a completely natural reluctance to get in front of groups of people. There wouldn’t be any accusing looks over him trying to get an easy grade, he wouldn’t have to spend half the day weighed down by an instrument, and unlike any of the sports options, there would be no need for senseless competition.

 

* * *

 

He was wrong. He was so, so wrong.


	2. Season 1, Episode 1

The first day of school, Sam arrived half an hour early, parked in the spot he’d been assigned, slung his messenger bag over his shoulder, and made his way towards the front office.

When he got closer, he spotted several signs helpfully directing different student groups on where to go. He followed the one proclaiming _SENIORS_ into what appeared to be the cafeteria, set up with yet more signs and a smattering of adults.

He went through the signs and adults in the process of acquiring himself a locker, picking up some guides and information sheets, and obtaining his class schedule.

With ten minutes left to spare, he found himself a solitary corner outside the building and scanned the schedule.

It was all things he’d expected: The core subjects that picked up from where he’d left off at his previous school, a physical education class at the end of the day, and a drama one right before it.

That didn’t stop his nerves from being set on edge again.

He glanced up to see more students arriving, milling about and emerging from between the cars in the parking lot like a horde of zombies. A half-asleep horde of teenage zombies.

Sam slid the schedule into his bag and pulled out the map he’d been given. He tried to familiarize himself with the layout, then made his way to his first scheduled class.

 

* * *

 

He made it through his first three classes, lunch, another class, and then it was time for drama.

He steeled himself. It couldn’t _possibly_ be that bad, definitely not on the first day, and probably not ever if his predictions were right. Besides, no one could _force_ him to act, or whatever it was people did in drama classes. So long as he got up and said whatever lines he was assigned, no teacher could ask any more of him.

His stomach gave a violent twist when he walked in the door to find students willingly standing in front of the class and talking at full volume, wildly waving their arms about.

He scurried to the nearest empty seat and watched the ones at the front in utter horror. Class hadn’t even started yet, what were they _doing?_ He glanced around at the other seated students, pleased to find that he apparently wasn’t the only horrified one in their midst.

Maybe the ones at the front were the hardcore theatre kids. Every school had some of those. Of course they’d be in the drama class, where else? If anything, their presence was a good thing. They were guaranteed all the attention, and probably _wanted_ all the attention, so no attention had to come Sam’s way whatsoever.

His heartbeat began slowing down and he took a deep breath. It would all be fine. Let the theatre kids have their fun, it was beneficial in the grand scheme of things.

Sam looked around the room some more. The desks were nearly all occupied now, with fewer and fewer stragglers coming in to fill them. To his relief, no other students seemed to share the same enthusiasm for attention than those at the front, and once the bell rang, even they sat down.

The teacher, previously sitting at her desk, now stood up and made her way to the front, where she introduced herself as Ms. Green.

Sam’s relief was short-lived as she announced that she was not in fact the teacher, but instead a long-term substitute. The room’s murmurs told him that the majority of the students had known that, even if they didn’t know where the actual teacher was.

Her next point was where the actual teacher was. Sam didn’t entirely pay attention, nor did he care to, since what came out of the substitute’s mouth immediately afterwards was that, given her lack of experience teaching any sort of drama class, she would act as a general supervisor and leave the actual teaching up to advanced drama students.

She asked for a show of hands from those who were taking drama for the very first time. He reluctantly raised his hand, but felt reassured when several others did too.

A show of hands from those taking it a second time: Just as many hands went up.

A third time: Fewer hands, mostly from those who’d been at the front when Sam had walked in.

A fourth: One single hand.

Ms. Green smiled down at its owner. “And you are?” she asked.

“Call me Felix,” came the answer. “Not my first name though, you can find _that_ under ‘Gates’ on the attendance sheet.”

“Alright, Felix, I’ll make sure to remember that. Now, you’re the only one here who’s taken this class every year, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Would you like to be in charge of it?”

“It’d be my pleasure.”

 

* * *

 

Felix was _insufferable_.

By the time the hour was over and Sam was heading to the gym for physical education, he knew that the nerve-racking tension drama class induced within him paled in comparison to Felix’s sheer insufferability.

He sat through physical education’s first day explanations, stewing in how utterly insufferable the mere memory of Felix was.

He acquired himself a gym locker, deposited what he needed to into his regular locker, drove back home, and still dwelled on what an insufferable person Felix had proven himself to be.

Sam couldn’t even pinpoint why.

Everything, probably.

His voice, his attitude, the way he carried himself. How he’d clearly let being in charge of the class get to his head within the first five minutes of his newfound role. All the people who seemed to get along with him despite his insufferability. The fact that it was evident he had no plans to let the inexperienced students off easy, not with the smirk he’d worn when announcing that it was henceforth going to be ‘audition week’ and raking his eyes over the area where the most first-year hands had been raised.

At dinner, Sam’s parents asked him how the day had gone. He gave them the highlights, glossed over drama, and left out Felix entirely.

“Did you choose drama or did they just put you there?” his father asked.

“I chose it.”

His parents shared another one of their looks.

“We’re so proud of you, Sami,” his mother said, laying one of her hands on his.

He felt himself give a small smile.

Everything would be fine.

 

* * *

 

“Okay, all you newbies get up here and introduce yourselves. Tell us your dream role while you’re at it.”

Sam’s anxiety was nearly drowned out by his annoyance, but he made his way to the front along with the other so-called newbies.

Felix sat down in the seat he’d unofficially claimed for himself, a desk at the front and center— what he viewed as his own personal director’s chair, most likely.

Ms. Green sat at the teacher’s desk, from where she’d been watching the class unfold and occasionally throwing out comments. Though usually passive in nature, the comments sometimes concerned the class’s supposed curriculum, to which Felix would reply ‘no problem’ and had at least once added on a ‘I’ll whip them into shape’.

Now, grinning up at the lineup of newbies from his director’s chair, Felix looked downright predatory. Sam squared his shoulders and tried his best to keep his glare fixed solely on Felix, both because he disliked Felix and because the alternative would be to look around at the surrounding sea of watchful eyes.

“So, newbies,” Felix said. “Let’s start over here.” He pointed at one end of the line. “Name and dream role. Name doesn’t have to be real, neither does the dream role. Sell it to me. Go.”

One by one, the newbies did as Felix asked of them. Some names were obviously fake, but the others sounded convincing enough that Sam couldn’t have guessed whether or not they were real. Not that he was trying very hard, entirely too preoccupied by what he should say to pay the others much attention. It was only when the person next to him was declaring her dream role to be Juliet that he sprung back to attention.

“I’m Sam. My dream role is...” he trailed off, desperately willing something into his mind. No, he was taking too long, he just had to say the first remotely acceptable thing that came to mind, quick, _quick_ —

“Romeo.”

Some snickers, a raised eyebrow from Felix, a stilted cough from beside him, and then it was the next person in line’s turn.

 

* * *

 

Sam didn’t even realize he’d been in a haze ever since then, not until it wore off halfway through his drive back home.

He immediately wished he could go back into the haze.

 

* * *

 

The third day couldn’t _possibly_ be worse, and yet there he was, once again at the front of the class, and this time all by himself.

Felix had called up the newbies one by one and given them each a sheet of paper with a collection of phrases and emotions on them. They’d had time to look them over at their desks while he talked, reassuring the rest of the class that once audition week was over, the real fun would begin.

“But now,” he’d said, “it’s time to see what you can do.”

He’d proceeded to call each of the newbies up again, instructing them to read out each phrase from the paper in whatever emotion was noted beside it. To ‘get a feel for their range’, according to him.

Sam would readily admit he knew nothing about proper drama class activities, but he couldn’t help thinking that getting a feel for their range was only Felix’s second priority.

The first _had_ to be asserting dominance over them. It had to.

“C’mon, Sammy! I’m pretty sure that one was supposed to be read out happily. Try again.”

Sam gritted his teeth. On the bright side of things, it was remarkably easy to ignore all the eyes on him if he just focused on one particularly insufferable pair right at the front.

He repeated the phrase.

Felix’s eyebrows shot up. “ _Wow_. That’s gotta be the grimmest ‘hasta la vista, baby’ I’ve ever heard, and that’s saying a lot.”

Sam distantly heard the class’s snickers, but was too focused on projecting his disdain for Felix to pay them any mind.

“Tell you what,” Felix said, looking over his own copy of the phrase paper. “Skip down to the angry one. Try that.”

Sam found the phrase in question and read it out.

A resounding silence met his reading, broken only by a single word.

“Dude.”

Sam’s attention was pulled back up to Felix.

“I swear I just got chills,” he said. “You sounded like you were ready to _murder_ me! While reading out a car insurance tagline! What the fuck?”

Several gasps rang out and Felix belatedly covered his mouth and glanced over at Ms. Green. “Can we swear?” he asked.

“Well...” She scrunched her face up in thought, then said, “I’d rather you didn’t, but you can get away with it just once in a while.”

“ _Nice_. Now where were we?” Felix turned to look at him again. “Ah, right. Sammy. Not bad, not bad. There’s still hope for you.”

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t until the fourth day that Sam realized Felix was also in his second class.

In Sam's defense, he'd never made peer identification a priority, and Felix was surprisingly quiet. Then again, there wasn’t much cause for him to be a nuisance in a history class of all things, but it still clashed with the image of him that Sam had built up over the past few days.

To the class’s chagrin, the history teacher declared they’d be starting proper lessons despite it still being the first week of school.

Sam didn’t mind. It was the same amount of work whether they started now or later. By the end of the year, they’d have covered all the same material, so why not start sooner?

Besides, it gave him the opportunity to send unnoticed glares Felix’s way.

 

* * *

 

At lunch, Sam finally noticed Felix was there too, seated at a crowded table on the other side of the cafeteria, regaling his captive audience with tales of who-knew-what.

As Sam watched, people from surrounding tables, and even those just walking by, would drop by to chat with Felix. Sometimes they’d also exchange a few words with the rest of the table, but for the most part, their attention was on Felix.

.....

Was Felix a popular theatre kid?

Sam hadn’t thought those existed, and yet there Felix was, surrounded by his very own adoring crowd.

_Insufferable_.

Sam scowled down at his lunch and chewed the rest of it with more force than entirely necessary.

 

* * *

 

“We’re gonna be doing something a little different today,” Felix announced as soon as the bell rang and class officially started. “We’ve gotten you newbies to come up a couple times already, talking and emoting and stuff. But now let’s put a twist on that.”

He spread his arms out. “Newbies! Just like before, I’ll be calling each of you up here. But unlike before, you won’t get questions or a script,” he said. “You’ll get me.”

Sam glanced around, noting that the other newbies seemed just as confused as he was.

Felix elaborated, “I’ll be sitting in my usual spot. Your jobs are gonna be to stand here like usual, but watch my face and do everything I do. I smile, you smile. I yawn, you yawn. I look like you kicked a puppy, you look like I kicked a puppy. Got it?”

A few scattered nods.

“Great. Here we go!”

 

* * *

 

It was silly. Newbies standing at the front of the room and slowly making faces down at Felix was incredibly silly. People were laughing.

And yet, as silly as it was and for all that people were laughing, Sam never got the sense that they were laughing _at_ the newbies. What they were actually laughing at, Sam couldn’t say, but merely suspecting that it wasn’t malicious was enough to put his nerves at ease.

Maybe laughter in a drama class was never malicious? The situations Felix had inflicted on the newbies so far had been pretty laughable, after all.

Sam’s pondering was cut short when Felix called him up.

“Alright, Sam. Just watch my face, do what I do.”

Felix leaned forward in his seat and his features reset themselves into as neutral a position as Sam had ever seen them.

Sam was certain his own matched.

Felix squinted and Sam followed suit. A wide grin spread across Felix’s face and Sam answered in kind. The squint dissolved and the eyebrows went up on both their faces. Felix’s grin tipped downwards and Sam’s followed suit. One shared expression of silent surprise later, Felix’s returned to neutrality and so did Sam’s.

They stared each other down for a few seconds.

Then Felix slumped in his chair. “I’m impressed,” he said. “You might make a good Romeo yet.”

Some quiet laughter accompanied the complementary round of applause that Sam’s performance had garnered, and he made his way back to his seat to watch the next newbie’s turn.

Felix’s remark had sounded like more of a taunt than anything truly genuine, but Sam couldn’t help the wave of self-satisfaction it elicited in him. Even if the only thing his efforts in the class ever amounted to was begrudging praise from Felix, it had Sam considering the possibility that taking drama might be worth it after all.

 

* * *

 

Sam’s fifth and final day of class for that week brought about new developments.

“As some of you already know,” Felix announced, “Ms. Green and I have been talking about how to run this class. She’s made the decision to leave the majority of the class in my hands—a brilliant decision, if I do say so myself—and I have humbly accepted.”

He gave an exaggerated bow and Sam felt his annoyance spike in a way he’d quickly come to associate with Felix.

“As for the _how_ of it... We have last year’s lesson plans and an overall curriculum to meet. Some of the greatest hits are gonna be: Pantomiming, lip-synching, improvisation, costuming, makeup, and yes, two plays.”

A ripple of murmurs erupted from the newbies and Felix waved it off. “We’ll be performing during school hours, and you’ll all get forms that excuse you from your other classes. And no,” he held up a finger, “we will not be performing during finals week. Still gonna have to do your studying for those.”

The murmuring turned dejected.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m not happy about it either. But enough about that. You’ll get more details when it’s closer. For now, let’s focus on this week and next. Newbies!” Felix held his arms out and graced them with what might’ve passed for a welcoming smile if not for the fact that it came from him. “I’ve been watching you all, taking notes. I’m not gonna lie, there’s potential there. We’ll see how far you come along by the end of the year.”

There was a smattering of cheering and encouragement from the other students. Sam shifted in his seat, unused to that kind of attention from people who weren’t his relatives, even if it wasn’t directly aimed at him in particular.

Felix spoke up again, “Next week we’ll be starting on the basics. Stage layouts, blocking, all that jazz. I’ll also be in charge of attendance checks, but don’t worry, I’ve already memorized your names and faces.” He tapped the side of his head. “I’ll know if you’re absent, newbies,” he added, voice exaggeratedly menacing.

Sam sat up a little straighter.

“Anyway,” Felix went on, “I figured you could all use a break. It’s Friday, after all. So let’s do some improv!”

 

* * *

 

The following hour was the most entertaining Sam had experienced all week.

Mercifully, Felix had left the newbies alone and called out for volunteers. Predictably, the more experienced drama students eagerly raised their hands, and before long, they’d all had a turn.

A turn at what exactly was hard to explain.

As far as Sam could tell, nearly everyone in the room was familiar with the activities taking place, even some of his fellow newbies. He had no idea how. He wasn’t _that_ out of the loop, was he?

He managed to set aside his fretting and focus on what was happening. One by one, small groups of students would stand at the front of the room and play improvisational games.

Felix, sitting at his director’s chair, would ask for suggestions from the rest of the class, then arbitrarily pick a couple and construct some outlandish scenario out of them. The students at the front were immediately off, acting out the improbable scenarios with a certainty that had Sam wondering if the scenes truly were improvised or not. It could all have been planned out beforehand, Felix ‘picking out’ predetermined suggestions to ‘create’ a scene out of.

Sam contemplated his options.

He could suggest something the next time the opportunity arose. Real or not, the chance that Felix would pick his was slim, given the amount of suggestions each new scenario brought forth. But it was the easiest way to test his theory.

The downside was... Well, there wasn’t much of one. He disliked the idea of speaking up amongst all the others’ chatter, but it would be a necessary evil.

He took a steadying breath—

The bell rang and class was over.

It was just as well; Sam hadn’t had any idea what to suggest.

 

* * *

 

“Have you gotten used to the new school?”

Sam finished chewing and swallowed. “More or less,” he answered.

His mother nodded. “That’s good. And how are your teachers?”

“Like all teachers. A couple are strict. I won’t know about the physical education one until next week when those classes start.”

“And the drama one?" his father asked. "Strict too?”

Sam’s chewing faltered. Slowly, he picked it up again, debating how to answer that. Finally, he settled on the truth. “She’s substituting for the actual teacher,” he said. “She isn’t strict.”

“So she’s nice?”

Sam frowned. No one who left the running of an entire class to Felix could be considered _nice_. He shrugged minutely and declared, “She doesn’t force us to do things.”

Felix, however, was another story altogether.

 

* * *

 

Though he’d enjoy another bout of camping, Sam dedicated the weekend to exploring the town instead.

His initial exploration didn’t last very long. He could only drive so slowly through the single street lined with stores. A different street led to a lone supermarket, and another hosted both a post office and a bank.

That was it, not counting the two rival gas stations.

He could’ve also driven through some of the neighborhoods, but didn’t see the use in it. It wasn’t like he’d ever have to know his way around those.

Not wanting his weekend of exploration to be over after just an hour, he circled back to the supermarket and parked, making his way inside.

It was just like any other supermarket. There was nothing special about it as far as he could tell. How few people there were was a bonus; he’d had his fill of crowds after spending a week in close quarters with hundreds of teenagers. He walked through the aisles, picking up a few items here and there, then paid at the cash register and left.

Back in his car, he sighed. There wasn’t much left for him to do but return home, so he did exactly that.


	3. Season 1, Episode 2

After a weekend of exploration, camping, and locking himself in his room to watch his favorite shows, it was time for Sam to return to the bustling halls of high school. The relaxation and familiarization of the past week were gone, and now the school year could begin in earnest.

As expected, his first class of the day kicked off in full force, and he studiously took notes. He even got a head start on the assigned homework.

The next class played out similarly, with the exception of the teacher’s lecture being genuinely interesting, plus a lack of assigned homework.

And that Felix was there.

Then it was time for Sam’s third class, then lunch, another class, and at last, drama again.

He walked into the room to find papers on everyone’s desks. Examining the one on his, he discovered that it was completely blank save for some squares and rectangles. A few of them overlapped, but most didn’t. He glanced up to see the same pattern of squares and rectangles drawn on the whiteboard, with Felix standing beside it.

A few students were talking animatedly with him, joking about something, and Sam’s eye was caught by the marker in Felix’s hand. He idly twirled it as he chatted, expertly flipping it around and between his fingers.

Sam had to admit that it was mesmerizing.

The bell rang and everyone but Felix sat down.

“Fun and games are over. Time to learn some technical sh— Uh, stuff,” Felix corrected himself, glancing over at Ms. Green.

She sent him a thumbs-up.

“Right. Okay, let’s get started.”

 

* * *

 

The hour was spent on a brief history lesson about theatre’s origins, the revelation that the squares and rectangles were actually a diagram of a stage, and the labeling of said squares and rectangles with their proper terms.

“Is this homework?” one of the newbies asked.

Felix shrugged. “Sure, if you wanna think of it that way. You’re gonna have to learn this stuff just to know what you’re doing half the time, but nah, no one’s expecting you to turn this in. Consider it your own personal study sheet.”

Sam looked down at it, then back up at the diagram Felix had filled out on the whiteboard. He didn’t seem to have missed anything, so he put his pencil down and relaxed until the bell rang soon after.

 

* * *

 

The very first week, physical education had been less of a class and more of a gathering.

Six different groups of students were made to sit in the gym for an hour, as it was a buffer period during which gym lockers and sportswear were assigned. For the most part, students had used the hour to talk with whatever friends of theirs happened to share the class.

Sam, having no friends—in physical education or otherwise—had used the time to people-watch, but for all his watching, there had simply been far too many people for him to recognize any of them.

It wasn’t until he arrived at the gym, changed into his sportswear, and first walked out to his specific class group that he realized something.

Felix was there too.

He’d changed into his sportswear and wasn't looking entirely happy about it. Sam had to wonder why the school hadn’t been able to get him a better fitting shirt, because he looked positively _scrawny_. Though it was no secret that Felix was on the thinner side, his choice of clothes generally made it seem like a positive trait.

Sam sat down where the teacher pointed him to and continued watching Felix, who gave no indication that he’d noticed him.

Before long, the class officially started and Sam’s study of Felix was abandoned in favor of focusing on the warm-up routine.

 

* * *

 

The following day’s biology class saw a new development: Sam recognized someone, and for once it wasn’t Felix.

The teacher’s lecture had been brief, ending with a distribution of worksheets and the instruction to partner up. Sam never enjoyed that kind of thing, but there were ways around it. He sat and waited for someone to approach him, already flipping his textbook to the section he’d need.

“Hey. Wanna be partners?”

Sam looked up. He was surprised to find one of his drama peers staring down at him.

“Sure,” he replied.

“Thanks,” said...

What was his name?

Sam should ask. Was it still acceptable to ask? It had only been a week, he couldn’t be expected to have memorized other people’s names yet. Well, Felix had. But he was Felix. Sam really ought to just ask. Maybe he could lead up to it? Possibly at the end of class, after they’d finished the worksheet? Or was it better to get it over with right off the bat, like a Band-Aid? What if—

“I’m Mason, by the way. We’re in drama together.”

Ah.

“I’m Sam.”

“Hey, Sam,” Mason said with a smile, flipping open his textbook. “Let’s get this worksheet done.”

 

* * *

 

Working with Mason went better than Sam anticipated. Unlike previous assignment partners, Mason did his share of the work, kept the small talk to a minimum, and was overall pleasant company.

They finished the worksheet just as class ended and amicably parted ways.

“See you later,” Mason said.

“Yes.”

 

* * *

 

Sam did see Mason later.

Now that he had a name attached to the face, he was able to walk into drama and spot Mason immediately. He was chatting with one of the third-year drama girls, but glanced up and waved in greeting.

Sam offered him a nod of acknowledgement and moved to sit down.

“Well, then,” Felix’s voice rang out, “let’s do some blocking.”

 

* * *

 

How to move on a stage. That’s all it meant.

Where did the blocks come in?

 

* * *

 

The week progressed in much the same way. Lectures were given, work assigned, and Felix inflicted.

Sam’s classes settled into a rhythm they were likely to maintain for the rest of the school year, including physical education, which saw everyone made to play a few rounds of basketball as well as undergo an assessment of their body’s abilities. Endurance, flexibility, and the like. Sam imagined he’d ranked highly on those tests, but truthfully, he didn’t care. So long as he was in condition to go on the occasional nature walk, he was happy.

Drama continued on as it had, which was to say that Felix’s insufferability was a permanent fixture. Fortunately, he’d ceased tormenting the newbies and was dedicating the class time to actually teaching them— yes, in that insufferable way of his, but teaching nonetheless.

Mason waved at Sam whenever they crossed paths. During lunch, Sam would always see him at Felix’s table, laughing along to his jokes with everyone else. It was strange, considering the contrast in their personalities.

Sam resolved to make sense of it.

 

* * *

 

They were busy flipping through their respective biology textbooks, filling out the blanks on the day’s worksheet.

“You're friends with Felix, aren't you?” Sam asked.

“Yeah,” Mason confirmed. “Why?”

Sam bit his lip. It would be so easy to leave it at that, to say ‘no reason’ or ‘just curious’ and let that be the end of it.

Instead, what came out of his mouth was, “How?”

A second passed where Mason stared at him in shock, but then his eyes were glittering with mirth. He used a poor excuse for a cough to disguise his laugh.

Sam steadfastly watched him until he calmed down enough to answer.

“He's not that bad, really. My girlfriend—you know, Megan from drama—she knew him before I did, and they're friends. Sort of. Anyone taking drama for the third year in a row kind of has to be, right?”

No, Sam did not know Megan from drama, and no, he was not aware of any arbitrary rule about befriending long-time peers.

He nodded anyway.

Mason went on, “After she took drama that first year, she dragged me along the next, and since she hung out with the other people who'd taken it before, I got roped into that group pretty quick. That's why I get along with the third-years even though it’s just my second time taking it.”

Sam nodded again, absorbing the information as best he could. If he was planning on making it through an entire year of drama, an entire year of _Felix_ , he had to know the ins and outs of the environment.

“So yeah, that's why we're friends. Like I said, he's not that bad. Sure, he's a bit... Intense. How else could you take drama all four years? But he's also pretty fun to hang out with, and he has his nicer moments.”

Sam tried to process that.

Felix? Nice?

He'd believe that when he saw it.

Their one-sided conversation was cut short by the teacher announcing there were only five minutes left to finish the worksheets.

They turned back to their textbooks and Sam filed the conversation away for later perusal.

 

* * *

 

Knowing Mason had a girlfriend named Megan in drama made it remarkably simple to identify her.

As soon as he walked in the room, there was Mason talking to the same girl he always talked to. Thinking back on it, Sam saw them together at lunch too, as both were part of the group who sat at Felix’s table.

Mason waved at him like usual and Sam nodded his way, also like usual.

Then class began, though not in the usual way.

“Everyone get out a sheet of paper,” Felix said. “Get your name and today’s date on it, then draw a stage. You don’t have to label any of it yet, but be my guest if you really want to.”

It turned out to be an impromptu test. They were expected to know a stage’s back from its front and right from its left— not as straightforward as one might think. Sam filled out the labels Felix asked for, certain that he’d remembered everything correctly.

“Now it’s definition time. Somewhere on your paper, and feel free to use the back if you’ve got no room on the front, give me a definition for ‘blocking’.”

Sam frowned in annoyance at the nonsensical term but did as he was asked. Again and again, Felix called out terms that had been covered over the past week, asking for definitions. Finally, he had everyone pass their papers up to him, where he stacked them all together and deposited them on Ms. Green’s desk.

The test couldn’t have taken more than five minutes, but the sharp contrast of it to the class’s thus far carefree atmosphere made the whole thing seem much more tedious than it had actually been.

As soon as Felix cheerfully announced that it would be another day of improvisational games, the room’s mood drastically shifted.

Felix sat at his director’s chair and asked for volunteers, and once again, those volunteers were all third- and second-year students. Sam’s suspicions that nothing about the scenes was genuinely improvised were rekindled, but before he could think of a suggestion to call out and test the theory with, one of the newbies volunteered for a scene.

She couldn’t be in on it too, could she?

Sam watched the scenario play out.

It was clear the newbie was out of her depth, her words laced with uncertainty and her delivery seconds too slow, but that could just be stage fright. She had to have been given a script beforehand.

A new, disconcerting possibility occurred to him then: What better way to test his theory than become a participant himself? It would be easy to volunteer, technically speaking. There was nothing difficult about raising his hand, and Felix would either choose him or he wouldn’t.

If he didn’t, it was more proof that these things were predetermined.

If he did...

Maybe it wasn’t worth the risk.

 

* * *

 

“So how’s school going? The drama class not so bad?” Sam’s father asked after dinner.

“It’s fine for now.”

“Oh, yeah? What are you all doing in there? Are you learning how to speak in public?”

Sam took a breath and launched into a detailed explanation of theatre’s early origins, a stage’s components, the techniques used in blocking, types of drama, types of acting, and the differences between theatre productions and cinematic ones.

All things considered, Felix _was_ a decent teacher.


	4. Season 1, Episode 3

It turned out Megan from drama was also in Sam’s literature class.

Good to know.

 

* * *

 

Felix declared it ‘pantomime week’ and the mixed reaction was evident.

Sam curiously listened to the lecture. It was just as interesting as the previous ones had been— in other words, fascinating for as long as Felix could keep himself on-topic, and not the topic on himself.

But then Felix announced something that cast a whole new light on the class’s reactions.

“Tomorrow you’ll all come up with short sixty-second scenes to pantomime, and we’ll use the rest of the week for acting those out and getting critiques. Remember: No using your voice, it’s all about your face and body.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Sammy.”

Sam slowed his steady jog and looked over his shoulder at Felix. They were supposed to be running laps, not talking. Felix didn’t seem to care though, nor did anyone else, teachers included. Most of the students were simply walking along, even those who had gotten off to a running start.

“Felix,” he acknowledged.

The wide grin Sam received left him wondering if Felix had expected him to just keep jogging. While it had been a strong possibility, his curiosity ultimately won out. What could Felix be striking up a conversation with him for?

Sam fell into step beside him, the pace drastically slower than a jog.

“So what’s it like talking with me?” Felix asked. “You really only know me as your teacher, after all.”

Sam considered jogging again.

“Seriously though, you’ve got a good facial range. Pity your voice’s only setting is ‘murder’, but hey, that’s what voice training’s for.”

“Is there a point to this?” Sam snapped.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. What’s wrong with getting to know my students a little better?” Felix asked, bringing a hand to his chest. “You wound me.”

That was the end of a conversation if Sam had ever heard one. He jogged away.

 

* * *

 

“That was rude.”

Sam froze with his shirt halfway off.

Felix was leaning beside his locker, apparently having materialized out of thin air.

Sam looked at him in confusion and Felix huffed.

“You left,” he said. “In the middle of our conversation.”

“I thought it was over.”

“No, it wasn’t _over_ ,” Felix refuted indignantly.

His outburst garnered a few looks, something he responded to with a well-presented middle finger. Sam paid him no mind and continued changing out of his sportswear.

“I think a little apology’s in order, don’t you?”

There were a multitude of ways Sam could reply to that, some much bolder than others. He was sorely tempted. But no, he would do well not to get on Felix’s bad side.

More than he already seemed to be, at least.

Maintaining a neutral air, he asked, “What for?”

“.....”

He spared Felix a glance, only to find that he’d lowered his gaze and seemed to have become lost in his own thoughts.

Sam frowned in annoyance. “Now who’s the rude one?”

“...What?” Felix blinked out of his apparent daze and caught up with the conversation. His brow furrowed and he gnashed his teeth. “Hey, it’s not my fault your answers take so long that people zone out!”

Sam finished buttoning his jeans and slung his bag over his shoulder.

Then he left.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, will you quit running off?”

Sam stopped halfway into his car and looked up.

Felix stood a few feet away, hip cocked and arms crossed.

“What do you want?” Sam asked.

Felix scoffed. “ _Fine_ , since you’re so set on avoiding small talk, geez,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. “Do you actually have any idea what you’re doing in drama?”

Sam tensed, oddly guilty considering he’d done nothing wrong. “What are you talking about?”

“Like, do you actually want to be there?” Felix elaborated, aimlessly waving a hand. “People usually don’t. I’ve taken it for four years, that’s four sets of first-years who very obviously did not wanna be there. So I can usually tell who’s who. But you? You’re weird.”

Was Felix expecting him to say something? He hadn’t really asked a question. Aside from the initial one, at least. But then he’d strayed from it. It would be awkward to answer now, wouldn’t it?

Sam opted for silence.

“Fucking— That’s exactly what I mean!” Exasperation colored Felix’s tone. “C’mon, gimme something to work with, man.”

“Like what?”

“Do you wanna be there? Yes or no.”

Sam considered it.

“ _Well?”_

“I’m _thinking_ ,” he growled.

Felix’s hands shot up defensively. “Whoa, dude. Ease up on the voice, hm?”

Sam ignored him, still considering.

He thought about his initial reluctance, the way he’d weighed the pros and cons of each elective and come up empty-handed. He remembered asking his parents and listening to their advice, dwelling on it until the allure of a choice—albeit a grudging one—won out over the persistent indecision.

He’d hated it. He really had.

But then school started and he got his first taste of drama.

And it was awful.

Not because of drama itself, though maybe that was awful too. He couldn’t be sure, because there was no time to focus on drama’s potential awfulness when Felix was there, _acutely_. Felix was also in his history and physical education classes, and he was also there in front of Sam now, but it wasn’t like in drama, where his _everything_ took up all the room’s space and then some.

Felix in drama was like a Venus flytrap. Open, teeth showing, waiting to catch some unsuspecting prey. The rest of the time he was closed up, digesting some morsel of attention he’d received, and then by the time drama rolled around he’d be empty and open and hungry all over again.

“No.”

“No?” Felix asked.

“I didn’t want to be there,” Sam said. “I still don’t. But...”

“But?”

Sam stayed quiet. Not to be difficult, though he considered Felix’s obvious frustration to be an added benefit.

No, Sam stayed quiet because he honestly couldn’t formulate what came after that ‘but’. But what? Why did Felix’s obnoxiousness negate the unspeakable tension that the very thought of a drama class had previously inspired within him?

Maybe it was something akin to watching a train wreck, a morbid fascination for the detestable.

“You’re like a train wreck,” he said.

“What?”

Sam opened his mouth. Stopped. Reconsidered.

“I have to go.”

And he slid into his car and drove away, leaving Felix to stare after him from the parking lot.

 

* * *

 

As soon as he got home, Sam buried himself in his homework and only emerged from his room once dinner was served.

Then he returned to his room despite his homework having been completed hours ago.

 

* * *

 

The history teacher passed out a worksheet meant to prepare them for that week’s test. To the majority of the class’s delight, she declared that they were welcome to work in pairs.

Without meaning to, Sam caught Felix’s eye.

Felix maintained eye contact. Then, ever so deliberately, he turned as far away as his chair allowed and loudly asked the person beside him if they’d like to pair up.

That was just as well. Sam was sure that working with Felix could only serve as a form of punishment for those roped into it.

He looked away and opened his textbook.

 

* * *

 

Drama consisted solely of Felix jotting down pantomime ideas on the whiteboard.

There was a sense of participation to it of course, with students calling out suggestions and generally having creative exchanges with each other and Felix.

But the crux of it was Felix jotting down pantomime ideas on the whiteboard.

Once they were down to five minutes of class time, he declared an end to the brainstorming session and advised, “Just play to your strengths. Good at looking scared? Do a horror scene. Good at moving around? Action scene. There’s something for everyone, so hopefully today gave you some ideas for what to do.”

He motioned to the whiteboard, adding, “Feel free to use one of those, by the way, though bonus points if you come up with something on your own.”

 

* * *

 

Sam spent the rest of the day wondering what to do.

What were his strengths? How was he supposed to know, when it wasn’t like he could ever watch himself through an outsider’s eyes? For that matter, shouldn’t Felix have told them? He’d had a front row seat to all their acting attempts thus far. What good was a director who didn’t give his actors any pointers?

Well, he _did_ say Sam had a good facial range, whatever that meant. Faces were faces, what range could they have?

But at least it was something.

 

* * *

 

“Know what you’re going to do for your pantomime?” Mason asked, pulling his chair up beside Sam’s in the few minutes before biology started.

Sam sighed. “...I have an idea.”

“Oh?” Mason’s features lit up. “Mind telling me? Or is it a surprise?”

“It’s not a surprise,” Sam said.

“Then?”

There was really no way to say ‘my idea was to use my face’ and come away looking competent, was there?

“I’m finalizing the details,” he offered, thankful when Mason’s questioning was cut short by the start of class.

 

* * *

 

They didn’t _have_ to perform that day. It was all about volunteering.

Sam knew there was no way he could, not when his idea hadn’t gotten much further than ‘make an angry face’. He decided to use the opportunity to watch the day’s volunteers. Hopefully one or two of them would help inspiration strike.

He didn’t have to wait long.

“As the resident fourth-year, it’s only right that I set an example and go first,” Felix said, voice and posture making it clear that his very presence in the room was something to be treasured.

Sam felt himself scowl, but leaned back in his seat and watched.

Felix held himself stock still at the front of the class, eyes closed as if in meditation. A second passed, and then he was looking up and walking in place, movements casual and fluid. He glanced from side to side, waving at imaginary passersby, before coming to an abrupt stop, gaze locked onto something in the far, far distance of the classroom’s completely blank wall.

He waved more enthusiastically, taking off at a jog that still had him remaining firmly in place. Despite that, his imaginary goal seemed to get closer and closer until Felix was looking it dead in the face, shaking its hand and patting its shoulder.

A silent conversation ensued, perhaps old friends catching up?

But then—

One of Felix’s hands shot out, pointing at something. Whatever it was must’ve been shocking, judging by his wide eyes and slack jaw. He nodded, turning back towards his companion, agreeing with their assessment of the situation in the distance...

...All while his other hand snuck in the opposite direction, skilled fingers reaching into a pocket and visibly pulling out a wallet that wasn’t actually there.

He pocketed it for himself just as deftly, hand coming back up to check the time, and oh! He was running late, there really was no time to catch up with old friends and discuss the happenings in the distance, however shocking they might be.

A quick nod, a personable smile, and he and the imaginary friend went their separate ways.

End scene.

 

* * *

 

Felix was talented.

There was no denying it: Felix _had talent_. There was a reason he took drama all four years it was offered, and it was because he could.

Could and _would_ and **_should_**.

Watching him in action was captivating, and Sam found himself lost in the memory of it throughout most of the following performances.

There were certainly a few that stood out as well, such as Megan’s apparent sneaking mission.

Her stance at the front of the room instantly snapped him out of his thoughts, and the next sixty seconds maintained his attention. He watched as she snuck around, carefully remaining undetected by guards. Quick, stealthy, always on the move unless it would get her caught.

Then still. Deathly still, so still it seemed as if her very heartbeat echoed throughout the room.

Moving again, crawling into a vent, through it. Undetectable. Silent... Audibly silent, in a way incomprehensible to all but those who were there to hear it.

Crawling, crawling, crawling. Then, at last, victoriously emerging from the other side of the vent, having successfully evaded security and infiltrated the building.

She gained just as much applause as Felix had, if not possibly more, aided by Mason’s extra enthusiastic clapping.

She had talent too, Sam could see that.

But as class came to a close and he walked himself to the gym, it was Felix’s performance that kept running through his head.

 

* * *

 

“I need help.”

His parents exchanged worried glances and sat up straighter on the couch.

“With what?” his mother asked, tone kind but cautious.

“I have to do  a scene in drama.”

He explained the situation, covering everything from the assignment’s requirements to listing off what the day’s volunteers had acted out.

He carefully glossed over Felix’s performance.

When he was done, he gave his parents a pleading look. “What can I do?” he asked.

His mother twirled a pen in her hand, brow furrowed. His father pursed his lips and absently stared at the floor.

Sam waited.

“And the teacher said you play angry roles well?” his father asked.

“Yes...”

His father nodded, staring at the floor again.

“Maybe a phone call that goes badly?” suggested his mother.

“That could be good,” his father said. “You act like you’re holding a phone and arguing with the other person. Maybe they’re a telemarketer?”

“Or _you_ call _them_ ,” his mother piped up. “Bad customer service, when they’re super incompetent. You’ve seen how they make me get sometimes. Get like that.”

They both looked at him expectantly.

“...Alright.”

 

* * *

 

It was time for volunteers again.

Sam could, if he really wanted to. He had the overall idea finalized. He hadn’t practiced it much, but... He could improvise, right?

Mason volunteered while Sam deliberated, distracting him from the worries that had begun clouding his mind.

The performance was simple but effective. What Mason lacked in intricacy or suspense, he made up for in physicality. There was nothing subtle about the way he stormed in from the side of the room, pointing at someone who had evidently drawn his ire. One challenging gesture later, he was steeling himself and dodging to the center.

He took on a fighting stance, and then the action truly began.

Punches thrown, punches dodged. More were dodged than thrown, with Mason playing it safe by staying out of his enemy’s range and ducking when necessary. A jump to the left, a kick to the right, fists at the ready, knees bent.

Mason leaned backwards. A close call.

Backwards again. Too close.

The next one got him square in the stomach and down he went, having fought valiantly but still no match for his undoubtedly formidable opponent.

As expected, Megan cheered loudly, her yells of “You’ll get ’em next time!” interspersed throughout the class’s applause. Once Mason returned to his seat beside her, she gave him a peck on the cheek for his troubles.

There was no way Sam could hope to go after that, and when Felix asked for the next volunteer, his insides twisted up in knots and he stayed put, condemning himself to an end-of-week performance.

 

* * *

 

“That was impressive,” Sam said, approaching Mason after class.

“Oh, thanks! I think I topped my pantomime from last year, at least. Who knows, maybe next year I’ll finally win.”

Sam gave him an obliging smile.

“‘Sam’, right?” asked Megan.

“Yes.”

“Oh!” Mason looked apologetic. “Sorry, I should’ve introduced you sooner. Megan, this is Sam, he’s in bio with me. Sam, this is Megan, my girlfriend who’s clearly way better at this acting thing than I am.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sam said and held out his hand.

Megan quirked an eyebrow as her lips formed an amused smile. She took his hand and gave it a firm shake. “Nice to meet you too.”

Sam nodded.

There was a pause.

“Sammy, might wanna hurry up if you don’t wanna be late for P. E.!” Felix interrupted.

Sam gave a start.

Felix was right. Obnoxiously, insufferably so.

Nevertheless, Sam quickly said goodbye to Megan and Mason and hurried to the gym, Felix hot on his heels.

“So, making friends?”

“Maybe.”

Felix fell into step beside him. “She’s got him totally whipped, by the way. Have you noticed? Fucking _tragic_ ,” he gossiped, watching for Sam’s reaction.

Sam said nothing.

“How ‘bout you?” Felix prompted instead. “Girlfriend? Long distance, I’d assume. Do you even know any chicks here besides Megan?”

Sam said nothing.

“Aww, don’t be like that. At least tell me what your pantomime’s gonna be.”

Sam said nothing.

They arrived at the gym, signalling that Sam had successfully avoided yet another conversation with Felix.

 

* * *

 

As soon as Sam was finished with his homework, he practiced his pantomime.

He refused to fail at something others had made look so easy— or, barring that, achievable.

He practiced and practiced, thankful it was something to be done in silence. The thought of his parents overhearing him practicing for drama was unnerving. They’d be curious, and though he loved his parents and appreciated their support, he just...

Couldn’t.

Not for this.

He kept practicing, over and over again, perhaps far more times than was expected of him. Mirror in hand, he studied his expressions, doing his best to overcome the embarrassment that came with it.

He paced. He tried imagining the phone conversation, the words and emotions. Pen went to paper as he wrote it out, mouth silently forming each word.

Dinnertime came, and he paused to eat with his parents. They talked, he listened. They asked how he was doing, he said fine.

He suspected they might have seen through his blatant lie, but if so, they left the matter unpressed.

He returned to his room and practiced until the moment he crawled into bed.

 

* * *

 

He’d completely forgotten about the history test.

Luckily, he’d been reading the textbook chapter that corresponded to the teacher’s lectures. His memory was effective enough for him to confidently answer the majority of the test questions, and the few that remained were answered very carefully.

He turned in his test and spent the rest of the hour mentally practicing his pantomime.

 

* * *

 

It was time.

He walked into drama, fully resigned to his fate.

“Hey,” Felix greeted him immediately.

“...Hi.”

“Nervous?”

There it was, that spike of annoyance Felix so effortlessly provoked in him.

“You know it’s just you and two other people left, right?” Felix continued. “You wanna go first or last?”

Sam sat down, and before he could stop himself, said, “I’ll go last.”

Felix smirked. “Sure thing, Sammy.”

Sam spent the next two presentations cursing himself.

 

* * *

 

He was...

Upset.

Upset about...

He should know this! Upset about what?

No, no time, it didn’t matter, keep going.

He was upset and he was calling someone. Someone who could—who _should_ —help him not be as upset.

Did the number matter?

Of course it mattered, it was where his fingers would press! Where were they pressing? Everywhere, nowhere, he couldn’t see the phone, it was meaningless, meaningless presses.

He pressed enough numbers, too many numbers, the phone is ringing, he needs to wait.

There, a voice!

Wait, no, that’s too soon, no one ever answers that soon, especially not customer service.

He replies anyway.

Explains his issue, the issue he can’t remember anymore, but he’s upset about it, and that’s what matters. He’s upset and he needs help, he needs help, he _needs help_ —

He’s tearing the phone away, no, not the phone, his hand.

There is no phone, it’s just his hand.

He’s pretending.

Very badly.

He stares down at his hand.

Lets it fall limp.

He doesn’t know what to do.

He can hardly hear the applause over the buzzing in his head.

 

* * *

 

“Hey.”

No, no, not Felix. He could hardly deal with Felix under normal circumstances, much less when he was...

Like _this_.

“That was actually really good.”

Sam ignored him and tried his best to focus on the stretches they were supposed to be doing. Their physical abilities were being evaluated yet again, and they’d been advised to spend time warming up until it was their turn.

Their turn for what, Sam had no idea. He was simply grateful to have stretches to focus on, something to keep his mind blank.

“Seriously, I wasn’t sure you had it in you. Anger, sure, but fear? Sadness? Whatever mix of the two that was? I’m pretty sure you surprised everyone.”

Sam kept stretching.

“Don’t be like that,” Felix whined. “Just take the compliment, okay? I don’t give ’em out that often.”

Sam paused. Took a breath. Considered his options.

Nothing to lose, really.

“ _Evidently_ ,” he stated.

Felix’s eyebrows shot up. “ _Wow_. Aren’t you in a mood?”

Sam glared at him.

Felix huffed. “What’s your problem? You’re always fucking impossible to talk to, and here I am, trying to be nice, and what do I get for it?”

Sam held his glare.

Then deflated.

He looked away.

“.....”

“.....”

“...Sam?”

“Gates!” called the teacher from halfway across the gym.

Felix scowled and began walking away. He turned to look back at Sam for a moment, then seemed to think better of it and hurried off to do his evaluation.

Sam stared after him, surprised to find his usual Felix-related annoyance replaced by something akin to calm.

There was a natural order, and it seemed that Felix getting on his nerves was part of it.

Unfortunate.


	5. Season 1, Episode 4

After a weekend spent eating comfort foods, binge-watching his favorite shows, and taking a stroll up and down his street, Sam was marginally closer to contemplating his pantomime fiasco.

Well, it couldn’t have been that bad; he got applauded.

Then again, he suspected that was part of drama etiquette. They’d applaud anything.

But Felix had complimented him.

.....

Debatable.

Mason might give honest feedback. If Sam had bothered talking to him between classes, he probably would’ve given his sincere opinion right then and there. Possibly with Megan’s input as well.

But Sam hadn’t talked to him, too wrapped up in his own anxious misery to do much of anything but bolt straight for the gym the minute drama ended.

Maybe that was rude.

He’d have plenty of opportunity to correct his rudeness. New school week, new Sam.

New things to worry about too, but he’d get to that later.

He parked and gathered his things, then headed to his first class.

 

* * *

 

Their graded history tests were returned, and Sam was pleased to find that he’d scored relatively highly.

The rest of the class wasn’t so lucky.

“My lecture’s just one half of the class, the other being the textbook. _Read the chapters_ ,” the teacher reminded them.

Sam spotted Felix folding up his test and furtively tucking it away somewhere within his notebooks.

 

* * *

 

“I apologize if I acted rudely. That was not my intention.”

“What?” Mason asked as he looked up, the confusion plain on his face.

Sam shifted in place, feeling like he was looming over Mason’s desk but unable to do anything about it short of pulling up a chair, and that was too familiar a move to employ in conjunction with an apology, wasn’t it?

He stayed upright, trying his best to convey the sentiment that, were it befitting the circumstances, he would gladly take a seat and put a stop to his unintentional looming.

“Last week. I left without speaking to you. That was thoughtless of me,” he explained.

Mason still appeared confused, but didn’t seem hostile, which Sam counted as a success.

“That’s okay,” Mason said. “Your scene was pretty intense. I know Megan gets a little weird when she does heavy stuff too.”

Sam thought that response over. Mason _sounded_ genuine. Did he really think Sam had acted out his pantomime the way he’d intended to?

“...Thank you?”

Mason smiled. “Hey, it’s no problem at all, don’t worry about it. You were really great!”

The bell rang and Sam returned to his seat. He felt lighter than he had all weekend.

Mason was a miracle worker.

 

* * *

 

He ate lunch alone as always, but constantly felt eyes on him.

For all his efforts, he couldn’t spot a single pair when he looked up.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, you were really good last week.”

Sam looked up to see Megan, standing in front of his desk in the few minutes they had before their literature class started.

Was this how Mason felt when Sam had loomed?

That warranted another apology.

Megan was still standing there, looking expectantly down at him.

Sam cleared his throat. “Thank you,” he said.

She nodded. “Glad you can take a compliment. You wouldn’t believe the number of times I’ve congratulated a newbie and end up having to convince them that I wasn’t just ‘being nice’. Trust me, if I’m ‘being nice’, you’ll know.”

Sam shifted in his seat. Maybe she could smell guilt.

“But you? Good job,” she continued. “We need more people like you. Good performance, good attitude. Congratulations, newbie.”

The bell rang and Megan left for her seat before he could begin to process even half the layers he suspected their conversation had consisted of.

 

* * *

 

“How’s everyone doing?” Felix asked. “You newbies all did your first big performance, everyone else got back in the fray, and I got to spend another week as teacher, courtesy of Ms. Green.”

He bowed in her direction and she replied with her own rendition of the royal wave.

Felix turned back to them. “Now, I’d have preferred to do this last week, but apparently whoever designed this curriculum schedule didn’t give a shit about newbies. So you all get to learn about building characters now, _after_ your first major performance. Pshhh, school boards, am I right?”

His rambling garnered a few laughs, as had come to be the norm in the mere two weeks he’d been in charge of the class.

“So without further ado...” he said, marker in hand and whiteboard pristine. “ _Characters_.”

 

* * *

 

It didn’t sound that hard on paper.

Think of a character, think of how they act, act in that same way.

Become someone you’re not.

Simple.

Then _why_ was there a worksheet for homework?

 

* * *

 

Felix tried to be subtle, but it was impossible to overlook the way he was shadowing Sam on their walk to the gym.

Sam slowed his steps and, apparently taking it as an invitation, Felix sped his up.

“Long time, no see. How’s it hanging?”

“Felix.”

“Yep, that’s me. Still rude?”

“You? Always.”

It took Sam a few steps to notice Felix had fallen behind, frozen in place.

He looked positively _ecstatic_.

“Sammy,” he said, holding a hand to his chest in as scandalized a manner as Sam had ever seen. “I had no idea you were _such a bitch_.”

Sam considered that.

He gave the vaguest impression of a shrug and kept walking.

“I like your style!” Felix called.

Sam didn’t look back.

 

* * *

 

Sam sat in his room, staring down at the drama worksheet.

The drama worksheet laid on his desk, mockingly staring back up at him.

It was an extremely basic questionnaire, but the answers eluded Sam.

He could answer so many things about himself. Questionnaires weren’t a problem. But answering things not about himself... Answering as someone else?

How was anyone meant to do that?

 

* * *

 

He didn’t complete the drama homework.

 

* * *

 

“You know, not many guys would let me get away with calling them a bitch. Not many girls either, I guess.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Sam said, surprised that Felix had caught him on the way to history.

Felix smirked. “What, to hear ‘bitch’ aimed at you?”

“N- No,” Sam floundered. “That you don’t get away with it.”

“Mm, usually not.” Felix paused, his unspoken words nearly tangible, but then he sped up and entered the classroom, leaving Sam to wonder what the purpose of the exchange had been.

 

* * *

 

Sam knew the drama homework wasn’t due until the end of the week, but that didn’t stop him from tensing up as he walked into the room, clenching his bag closer.

To his relief, the homework was still due at the end of the week, and it was yet another brainstorming day.

Felix copied the worksheet’s questions up on the whiteboard and asked the class for a random character. Several were called out, and upon choosing one, he guided them through the process of filling out the worksheet for that character.

Then he erased all the answers and asked for another character.

One by one, he spent the majority of the hour giving them insights on various characters of all types. Heroes, villains, funny sidekicks, background characters hardly anyone remembered, and—for five very entertaining minutes—even the Loch Ness Monster.

With ten minutes left, he declared it time for some quick improvisation games.

Sam was too absorbed in his worksheet to speculate on the spontaneity of the games.

 

* * *

 

He was on his way to the gym when Felix materialized beside him.

“How’s your character worksheet coming along?”

Sam said nothing.

“That bad, huh?”

Sam said nothing, more aggressively.

“Look, Sammy,” Felix said, “you've got potential. You and a couple other newbies. It's my job as your teacher to make sure you reach that potential.”

“But you're not the teacher.”

Felix watched him.

“Not really,” Sam added.

Seconds passed in silence, Felix’s expression blank. Then his eyebrows quirked and his teeth showed. “Sammy, Sammy, Sammy...”

They reached the gym and stopped right outside the doors. Felix turned to face Sam.

“I'm whatever I want to be.”

 

* * *

 

The phrase tumbled around in Sam's head the rest of the day.

He didn't know what to make of it.

Felix had sounded... Threatening? Arrogant? Conspirational? Something else altogether? And for that matter, how had he _meant_ to come across? Intent was important.

Sam got through his homework with one half of his brain still puzzling over the interaction.

He forgot all about his character worksheet.

 

* * *

 

“Ms. Green and I have been talking, and we _think_ we’ve decided on what to do for the two plays in the curriculum,” Felix announced. “We’re actually still working out the second one, but the first should be easy.”

He paused as if trying to build anticipation, and sure enough, it worked. The room was deathly silent. Even Sam was at attention.

Felix cleared his throat. “Third- and fourth-years”—he indicated himself—“will have the chance to try their hand at directing. Instead of one big play, we’ll be doing a bunch of scenes. Any third-years who’d like to direct instead of act will get a script and whatever number of actors they need for it. I’m assuming we’ll have a good ratio of directors to actors, but if not, there’s always room for negotiation.”

There was excited murmuring from the third-years.

“It’s months away, so it’s still too early to set anything in stone, but the long and short of it is that directors will have their own negotiating to do. Who gets what script, whether their scene goes first or last, and yes, actors.”

The murmuring abruptly fell silent.

“So remember, newbies: Every day’s an audition.”

 

* * *

 

As far as Sam understood, Felix’s speech boiled down to the fact that, at some point in the future, the older students would all gather around a table and discuss everyone else’s acting merits.

Then they’d decide who they wanted to work with.

Somehow, the very concept didn’t make him want to run for the hills. If anything, he imagined it would make for an interesting learning experience. Being personally directed by a veteran drama student? Working in a small group as opposed to being just one of many students in a class?

It was even somewhat appealing.

But who would want him? Felix had implied that the directors would have to fight over actors, and even if Sam’s fears were all for naught and he _hadn’t_ already made an utter fool of himself, there was a world of difference between that and being an actively desirable asset.

Mostly, he just hoped he wouldn’t disappoint whoever he ended up under.

 

* * *

 

The next day, Mason was back at Sam’s side before the start of biology, discussing the directing opportunity.

“Megan’s super excited about it. I mean, whoever signs up for directing will probably be really fun to work with. I’ve only ever been directed by the old teacher, and Megan says they let some of the fourth-years direct back when she first took the class, but not a full-blown project like this.”

Sam nodded, unsure that he could offer any meaningful commentary.

“But hey,” Mason leaned closer and lowered his voice, “can you keep a secret?”

Sam stared at him.

Mason leaned even closer.

Sam tensed.

Mason whispered in his ear, “Megan’s gonna direct. She wants it to be a surprise because she knows the other third-years are ready to fight over who gets her.”

It felt like an astounding revelation the way Mason told it. Sam felt as if he were privy to something much more profound than basic gossip he hadn’t even been in drama long enough to fully appreciate.

Mason pulled back slightly, but kept his voice quiet. “Can you imagine their reactions when they find out?” he asked.

So that’s why she was doing it, the sheer chaos factor. Sam could respect that, even if he couldn’t relate. He supposed some theatre kids just enjoyed living on the edge.

Felix could probably relate.

Class started and Mason returned to his seat.

 

* * *

 

Another day, another round of improvisation games.

Everything was fine until Felix reminded them all, “Don’t forget to bring in your worksheets tomorrow! The character doesn’t matter, just that it’s _in_ character.”

 

* * *

 

Long after Sam had completed his other homework, he sat at his desk and glared down at the worksheet.

Why was it giving him such a hard time? Felix had made it seem so simple. Nearly ten different examples had gone up on the whiteboard, and Sam couldn’t for the life of him remember how to do any of it.

The concept was easy enough to grasp; the problem was that he barely had a handle on his own thoughts and emotions, let alone a nonexistent character’s.

But he couldn’t leave the worksheet blank.

...Maybe if he just answered it _for_ a character, rather than _as_ them?

Who?

He leaned back in his chair, stretching his back and staring blankly around his room.

A poster caught his eye.

He scrutinized it.

The face on the poster smiled down at him.

Hmm. It might work.

 

* * *

 

“Two things,” Felix said as soon as they’d all entered the class, before the bell even rang. “First, everybody hand in your worksheets.”

One by one, worksheets were passed up the rows, where Felix collected each stack and merged them all into one.

“Great. Now that that’s out of the way, the second thing is giving you back your tests from forever ago.”

The process only took a few minutes, as Felix was quick on his feet and even quicker to remember where each of them was seated. People started chatting while he worked, but Sam waited in silence. Eventually, Felix looked down at the next test and looked back up at Sam. He strode over and handed it to him, then was off again, hunting down the next test’s owner.

Sam checked his test.

A perfect score.

He let out a relieved sigh. Even if his performances left much to be desired, he could always count on written work to boost his grade.

Felix handed out the last of the tests and returned to the front of the room. “This is when things get interesting again,” he said, customary grin firmly in place. “Most of you did great on your tests, so congratulations. Then again, if this isn’t your first time taking drama, there’s absolutely no reason you should be scoring anything less than a solid hundred.”

He raised an eyebrow at the second- and third-years, some of whom giggled nervously.

“Anyway,” he went on, “now that we’ve got all that out of the way, next week we can start on lip-synching. We’ll hear all the song choices, and it’ll probably take us at least two days to get through them. Then we’ll work on lip-synching the rest of the week, and start performing the week after that.”

He held his arms out.

“Isn’t it exciting?”


	6. Season 1, Episode 5

There was to be another history test at the end of the week.

From the chorus of groans that followed the reminder, it was clear the majority of the class was now seeing their Monday off as a curse rather than a blessing.

The teacher advised them all to read the chapter and said she’d have practice worksheets for them the next day.

If looks could kill, Felix would be a suspect of attempted murder.

 

* * *

 

They spent drama listening to a compilation of songs from musicals, both from stage productions and movies.

Before they started, Felix had them all pull out sheets of paper to keep track of the songs they were interested in. As each started, he would announce the title, which they would all copy down, and then everyone would fall silent and listen.

Sam would be lying if he said he recognized most. There were definitely a few iconic ones in the bunch, ones that he imagined most people had heard before, and then there were the ones he was clueless about, but that other people seemed delighted just to hear the opening notes of.

Felix had recommended writing down short impressions of the songs. One or two descriptors, maybe a lyric. It would help them remember which song was which, even if they couldn’t remember the specifics.

The hour drew to a close and Felix paused the compilation. “Alright, we’re a little over halfway through. Tomorrow we’ll finish these off, and by the next day I want you all to turn in your top five choices to lip-sync. Some songs are bound to be more _popular_ than others, but Ms. Green and I will try to keep it balanced,” he said.

There were a few snorts from a couple of the students. Not for the first time, Sam felt as if he’d missed an inside joke that only repeatedly taking drama would alert him to.

“So be thinking about what songs you wanna do,” Felix said. “Remember, it’s harder to get compared to others if you pick a song nobody else does.”

 

* * *

 

“Heard any song you like?”

Sam slowed his pace, having come to accept Felix’s pre-gym conversations as an inevitability.

“Not particularly,” he said.

Felix tsked. “Well, maybe one of tomorrow’s songs will be more up your alley. Even if they aren’t, you’ve gotta have some backup choices ready.”

A neutral silence fell between them, not lasting very long before Felix broke it.

"As much as we’d all love to see you jumping around up there, singing about hydromatic cars, I think something a little more understated would work wonders for you,” he commented. “Specifically something in tomorrow’s half of the playlist.”

Sam glanced over, only to be met with a wink.

Felix walked ahead and entered the gym, leaving Sam to contemplate his suggestion.

 

* * *

 

“So how goes school? Has anything interesting happened?”

Sam put down his fork and said, “We have a history test at the end of the week.”

His father made a surprised sound. “And have you studied?”

“Yes, I’m reading the book.”

“Do you remember everything?” his mother asked.

“Yes.”

“That’s good,” she said with a smile. “And how's it going for you in algebra?”

Sam grimaced. “Fine. I memorized all the formulas and how they work.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded.

“That’s good,” she said again, turning her attention back to her plate.

His father continued the conversation in her stead by prompting, “And your other classes? What have you all been doing in the physical education one?”

“More than anything, we play basketball. Sometimes they make us run.”

“Dang, they’re so boring. I thought that maybe they’d make you practice self-defense, or yoga, or something.”

Sam gave him an indulgent smile.

“And what about drama?” his mother nonchalantly asked. “How’s it going?”

Sam got the distinct impression that the question was much higher on his parents’ priority list than they’d tried to make it seem. “We’ve been listening to songs,” he said. “We’re going to have to pretend that we’re singing one next week.”

“Oh, yeah? How fun!” his father said.

“How are you all going to do that?” his mother asked.

The rest of their dinner was spent on Sam recounting the assignment’s details, along with the few songs he remembered from the compilation.

 

* * *

 

“Have you got any song you really wanna do?” Mason asked him as soon as he sat at his desk in biology.

“No...”

Mason shrugged. “That's okay, you don't really _get_ lip-synching your first year. My advice is what Felix said: Pick something you don't think anyone else will. Even a good song will get on your nerves by the third time someone gets up there to do it.”

Sam’s alarm must've shown on his face, because Mason laughed and said, “It _did_ happen! Can you believe it, three different people getting up there and doing the same song, one after another? I swear we were all sick of it by the time they finished.”

“What song was it?”

“That's the really funny part, it was—”

The bell rang, cutting Mason off and leaving Sam stewing in his curiosity.

 

* * *

 

“ _Pssst_.”

Sam looked up to find Megan looming over his desk again.

“Yes?” he asked.

“Got a lip-sync song in mind yet?”

Sam sighed. “No.”

Megan looked thoughtful, then leaned down and confided, “Pick something slow, emotional. It’s drama class. Make sure you can play up the drama.”

She left for her desk while Sam thought her words over.

 

* * *

 

As soon as everyone was seated, it was back to the song compilation.

Sam kept detailed notes, taking what little advice he'd been given to heart. He made sure to distinguish the more subdued songs, jotting down the particular emotion they seemed to be portraying.

Eventually, the last song played and the compilation came to an end.

“Well, that's all, folks,” Felix said, taking his customary spot at the front of the room. “Those of you who've already decided on your top five choices, feel free to hand those in to Ms. Green right now. Everyone else, you have until tomorrow.”

Ms. Green made her way through the rows, heading to people who were holding up their papers. It was mainly third-years, but here and there a second-year was confident in their song choices as well.

Felix leveled them all with a look, adding, “Now, a word of advice: Pick something believable. That especially goes for you newbies. I'm not saying a girl can't lip-sync a guy song or vice-versa—we all remember last year, right?—but what I _am_ saying is that I'm not sure any of you can pull it off yet. So stay in your comfort zone for now. It's still early in the year and the sky's the limit. Or if you _really_ wanna take a chance, go for it. I definitely won't stop you.”

 

* * *

 

“So. Song?”

Sam shook his head. “Not yet,” he said.

“That's a shame. Ideas?”

“Some.”

Felix grinned over at him. “Good. I won't tell you what to do, but fingers crossed that you pick the best choice.”

How unhelpfully ambiguous. Sam couldn't bring himself to feel annoyance, and simply continued walking to the gym, Felix chattering away at his side.

“Hey, I'm basically the drama teacher, yeah? But I’m also a student, so I have to be doing the same shit as you all. Do you have _any_ idea how much work it is? Critiquing, teaching, practicing my own stuff too, and don't even get me started on th—”

They stopped short at seeing the way the gym had been set up. Little booths, a variety of lights, and expensive cameras abounded.

“I always forget about this even though it happens every year,” Felix muttered. “More than once, even!”

“What is ‘this’?” Sam asked.

“Picture Day,” Felix said, voice leaving little doubt as to his disdain for it. “Don't get me wrong, I love people taking pictures of me, but not when the rest of the school’s getting the exact same treatment. Not to mention how boring it is standing in line for it.”

He sighed loudly, head tilting back and shoulders slumping. If not for the fact that Sam had seen him employ those same dramatics just moments before, he might have felt sorry for him.

“Ah, well. Beats exercising.”

 

* * *

 

Sam stared down at the list of songs, looking over his notes beside each title.

He remembered a decent amount of them, more than he thought he would, but he didn’t remember them well enough. The ones he remembered the best were the ones he’d already known, the famous ones.

Certainly also the ones that multiple people would pick.

He crossed them off the list.

The rest stared back, daring him to pick one of them, to stake his drama reputation and integrity on it.

He glanced up at his clock.

Did a double take, looked again.

It couldn’t be that late— he’d finished his homework as soon as he got home and had done nothing since.

He glared down at the song list and cursed Megan and Felix’s ‘advice’. Why couldn’t they say what they meant instead of being so vague?

He crossed off the songs he didn’t remember at all.

Ten songs were left.

Three of them were sung by women, and like Felix had said, Sam doubted he could pull that off, be it now or ever.

He crossed them off.

Seven songs.

He needed five.

After sitting there long enough that his mother knocked on his door, telling him dinner was served, he decided it was time for drastic measures.

 

* * *

 

Several coin flips later, he was down to five songs.

Then he remembered they needed to be in some sort of order.

He was hungry, he’d deal with it later.

 

* * *

 

“How’s that thing with the songs going? Did you pick one?”

“Not yet,” he said. “But I chose five that could be it.”

His mother’s eyes lit up. “Which five?”

Sam listed them off, recounting what few details he could remember about each. The sad one, the lonely one, the slow one filled with long bouts of silence, the one building to a hopeful crescendo, and the one that oozed bitterness.

“And there isn’t one you prefer?” his mother asked.

His father began, “I think—”

“Shh! Let Sami give his opinion first!”

His father fell silent and looked apologetically at him.

Sam stirred his soup and said, “I don’t know.”

“Not even a little?”

“I don’t know how to choose. They’re all like what they recommended for me.”

His mother tilted her head. “What did they recommend for you?”

“Some classmates said I should do something more serious that wasn’t so popular and had emotion.”

“Friends of yours?” his father asked.

Sam hesitated. Were they? Well, Felix certainly wasn’t, but Megan? Maybe? Friend-adjacent, at least. Or maybe that was Mason.

Friend-adjacent, once removed.

Close enough.

“Yes,” he said.

“That’s good,” his father said. “And they know what they’re talking about?”

“Yes.”

His father nodded and seemed to lose himself in thought. Meanwhile, his mother already had, staring blankly ahead at the wall. Sam watched them a while, then returned his attention to his soup.

Eventually, his mother spoke again, “You have to choose, no? How will you do it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, don’t pick the slow song,” his father commented. “Those are enjoyable when you want to listen to them, but nobody’s gonna want to hear one in the middle of the day.”

Sam mentally shuffled that one to the bottom of his ranking.

“Were there some you understood more than others?” his mother asked.

Sam looked at her questioningly.

“When you heard them,” she elaborated. “If there’s one you couldn’t really understand, then I doubt the rest of the class could.”

Sam nodded, shuffling the sad one to the bottom, just above the slow one. “That leaves me with three songs,” he said. “The one about being alone, the one about hope, and the bitter one.”

“Those three sound interesting,” his father said. “I think it could be any of them. Unless... Is there one that’s slower than the others?”

“The one about being alone.”

“Then forget about that one.”

Down the ranking it went.

“So,” his mother said. “Hopefulness and bitterness. Which do you wanna try?”

_Try?_ Sam didn’t know about ‘try’. He only knew what he’d already done, and what everyone had suggested he do.

He abruptly remembered his first week in class and the way Felix had praised his angry voice. Lip-synching was the exact opposite of using his voice, but it also had to be believable. If him having an angry voice was believable, then...

“I think I know.”

 

* * *

 

“Hand up your sheets, everybody,” were the first words out of Felix’s mouth that day.

There was a cacophony of rustling papers, and Felix soon had everyone’s song choices in a neat little stack. He flipped through it, pausing now and then, grinning at some more than others.

“It’s always that song, isn’t it?” he asked no one in particular.

The older students laughed.

“Well, then,” he said, finishing with the stack and handing it to Ms. Green. “Like I said, we’ll try to keep it balanced, but there’s bound to be some repeats. Make sure you show up tomorrow, since that’s when we’ll tell you what song you’re doing, and you’re definitely gonna want the weekend to work on it.”

“Work on it how?” one of the newbies asked. “Aren’t we just pretending to sing?”

Felix nodded and and raised his arms. “Welcome to _Lip-synching 101_ ,” he called out. “As always, I’m Felix and I’ll be your teacher for today.”

The next hour was spent on Felix’s typical theatrics interspersed with actual useful information. Memorizing a song so you could realistically form the words, taking breaths you didn’t need before belting out notes you wouldn’t really, pretending you were the character singing that song, that you were performing it in the larger context of a full-blown production...

In short, acting.

 

* * *

 

“ _That_ song, huh?”

Sam said nothing, but slowed his pace and looked over at Felix.

“I gotta say, I’m looking forward to it.”

Silence fell, and for once, Felix didn’t break it.

 

* * *

 

The history test was comparable to the first, obscure questions and minute details included.

Fortunately, Sam had continued reading the textbook chapters as the teacher covered them, and though some questions were too demanding even for him, his memory was sufficient enough to easily answer the rest.

He turned his test in and pulled out his algebra homework, getting a head start on it while he could.

 

* * *

 

“Next week, we’ll be meeting in the library,” the biology teacher said. “I’ll leave a note on the door for any of you who forget.”

Curiosity rose its head in Sam. He hadn’t had a chance to visit the school’s library yet. Hopefully he’d have time to look around after Monday’s class.

 

* * *

 

In drama, they were each handed a CD with their assigned song.

Sam was given the one he’d chosen, the bitter one.

“There’s a couple repeats, but nothing too terrible,” Felix said. “Practice your song over the weekend, and we’ll start taking volunteers on Monday.”

Like always, the rest of drama was spent on improvisation games.

Unlike always, a fair share of newbies got up and participated.

Sam wondered if his refusal to do so was going to get him singled out someday.

 

* * *

 

“That history test fucking _sucked_ ,” Felix complained, keeping pace alongside Sam on their way to the gym.

“Some questions were difficult,” Sam conceded.

“Some!?” Felix gaped at him. “What the hell, man, they _all_ were! None of what she talks about in class is on the test, and I looked at the stupid book but those chapters are like twenty pages long. Who’s got time for that?”

“I do.”

“What, you’re telling me you actually read all those?”

“Yes.”

“No way, dude.”

“.....”

“.....”

“.....”

“Shit, you’re serious. No wonder you don’t have a social life!”

Sam sped up and left Felix behind.

 

* * *

 

As soon as Sam got home—

As soon as Sam finished his homework—

As soon as Sam was well-fed, he returned to his room and dug out the CD. He inserted it into his stereo, along with a pair of headphones, and sat down to listen.

His first impression had been right. It was bitter.

Bitter and cynical and angry at the world.

Could he pull that off?

Sam frowned. It wasn’t a matter of whether could. He’d _have_ to.

He took out a sheet of paper and began writing down the lyrics.

 

* * *

 

He almost had it memorized.

_Almost_.

But 'almost' wasn’t good enough.

He kept practicing.

 

* * *

 

He had a day left.

His pantomime had been a fiasco, no matter what anyone had said. If they didn’t know it, _he_ knew it, and he wouldn’t let it happen again.

He had to go first.

He had to do it _right_.

He kept practicing.

 

* * *

 

He still felt silly mouthing along to the song, pretending the words were coming from him.

But if he felt silly, how was he supposed to convey the song’s actual emotion? Who’d ever heard of silly bitterness?

His reflection frowned back at him.

If anyone could bring out bitterness in him, it was Felix, and he was guaranteed to be right there in the front row like always, watching his every move, waiting for him to fail.

His reflection scowled.

Hmm. He may be onto something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sam's song is ['Funny' from _City Of Angels_.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0u7A0XpgwgM)


	7. Season 1, Episode 6

Their history tests were returned as soon as class began.

Sam was glad to see he’d earned himself a decent score for the second time in a row, but the rest of the class seemed considerably less pleased by theirs. Felix, in particular, looked as if he were on the brink of storming out of the room altogether.

To Sam’s amusement, he held up the test in his direction, clearly mouthing ‘ _what the fuck?'_

Sam held up his own test and, because he was feeling the slightest bit mischievous, threw in a thumbs-up for good measure.

That was murder in Felix’s eyes if Sam had ever seen it.

 

* * *

 

He was halfway to biology when he remembered the class would be meeting in the library. Fortunately, it happened to be down the hall from the biology classroom, so he continued on his usual path, eventually spotting Megan and Mason up ahead.

Sam deliberated on whether to go say hi. What would be the point, when he would see them again later on? But maybe it was rude not to greet people you knew.

They separated before he could decide, and Megan turned around and looked straight at him.

“Oh, hey, Sam.”

Mason turned at the words, and now Sam had two pairs of eyes on him.

“Hi,” he said.

“I’ve gotta go, see you later!” Megan said, waving and hurrying off.

Just one pair.

“You know where the library is, yeah?” Mason asked.

“Yes.”

“Good, I wasn’t sure if you’d had a chance to see it yet.”

“I haven’t,” Sam said, falling into step beside Mason. “I’ve only seen it on the school map.”

Mason’s eyebrows went up. “Then you’re lucky you ran into me! It’s not as easy to get to as it looks on there.”

It turned out that Mason was completely right. It wasn’t that it was _hard_ to get to, only that it was impossible to identify as a library until you’d actually entered it. Sam knew he would’ve deliberated outside for ages, worried that he might be interrupting some other class, or walking into a staff meeting, or countless other vaguely probable scenarios.

In short, he was glad Mason was there.

Sam looked around as he entered. He hadn’t been expecting much, and in that sense, he wasn’t disappointed. With one quick sweep of the room—because that’s what it was, a big room—he could see various clearly-labeled sections for individual genres.

He followed Mason to the tables at the back, where a good portion of their biology class was already gathered. They sat down, and in a matter of minutes, the rest of the class arrived and the teacher began her lesson. For the most part, it consisted of a multi-step assignment meant to ensure that they knew their way around the library’s computers, if only at the most basic level: Using a search engine, printing an article, so on and so forth.

Most of the class finished the assignment with time to spare, at which point they retreated to the far corners of the library, idly chatting among themselves. Mason made his way back to the tables the class had originally started at, and Sam?

Sam had spotted a measly little shelf, easily overlooked to the untrained eye, titled _MANGA_. He made a beeline for it, scanning over the available volumes. It wasn’t much of a selection, but he recognized a couple of them. He pulled one from the shelf and flipped through it.

Wait. Was that...?

He studied the image more closely.

Yes, someone had definitely taken a marker to the page, likely under the guise of censorship.

He didn’t mind, not _really_ , but it was the principle of the thing. The art had been beautiful, but was now obscured by crudely drawn-on clothes. They were barely a step up from just slapping a big black censor bar over everything.

Why did the library bother to stock such material if they were going to deface it that way? Wouldn’t it be simpler to forego the process altogether?

He placed the book back on the shelf with a sigh.

He supposed it was worth it if only to introduce more people to _Sailor Moon_.

 

* * *

 

“You’ve all practiced your songs, right?”

Nervous energy radiated from the newbies, matched only by the excitement from the older students.

“Then who wants to go first?” Felix asked.

“I will.”

Every set of eyes in the room turned to look at Sam.

“...You sure?” Felix asked, the slightest note of confusion in his voice.

“Yes,” Sam said, standing from his seat, CD in hand.

Felix’s customary smile slid back into place. “Then step right up and hand over your CD!”

Sam did, and Felix plopped it into the stereo, turning the volume up.

“Ready?” he asked.

Sam nodded.

“Alright. And... Go!”

Felix hurried back to his seat as the song began to play.

Sam steeled himself. He could do this, he would do this, he would, would, _would_ —

The words started and he was opening his mouth as if by instinct, the reaction automatic after a long weekend of practice. But was it believable?

He mentally shook himself. It definitely wouldn’t be believable if he kept fussing over it! Focus!

Focus on the words...

And the bitterness...

Focus on Felix!

Be bitter at Felix, sing the words at Felix, show him what Sam was capable of!

Before he knew it, the song drew to a close.

As the last of it faded away, people began clapping, Felix included, and when the clapping died down, he spoke up.

“Man, I don’t know what it is with you and the angry stuff, but it _works_.”

Scattered murmurs of agreement met his assessment.

“If I had to critique something,” Felix continued, “I’d only say that your beginning was a little off, emotionally. It looked like it took you a bit to get to where you wanted to be, but hey, once you did, you were unstoppable. So really, congratulations.”

Sam returned to his seat amid the second round of applause, feeling lighter than he had in days.

“Well, then. Who wants to follow that?” Felix asked.

Several people shook their heads, but Megan stood up. “I’ll go,” she said with a grin, prompting various cheers.

“The floor is yours,” Felix said, waving her on.

She set Sam’s CD aside and put in her own, then pressed play and turned towards her eager audience.

The song began.

It was one of the ones Sam had recognized. A love song, of sorts. More importantly, a well-paced and genuinely enjoyable one.

And that was on a purely auditory level.

Visually, Megan was perfectly moving along to the song with both her mouth and body, staging a whole production with nothing but her expressions.

It was captivating.

As soon as the song finished, enthusiastic applause filled the air.

“You just had to do that song, didn’t you?” Felix asked.

Megan grinned. “Well, who else?”

Felix inclined his head, conceding the point.

What the point was, Sam hadn’t managed to grasp.

“Amazing, as always,” Felix started. “A little pitchy sometimes, I thought?”

She gave him an incredulous look.

“I’m kidding. No, seriously, you were great. I have to critique _something_ though, so...” Felix trailed off, then declared, “I didn’t quite feel that personal connection.”

“What?” Megan asked, mouth quirking up in amusement.

“Yeah, I definitely felt way more personally attacked by Sammy over there,” Felix said, glancing over at him. “Get back to me when you can glare right into my soul.”

Megan laughed and curtsied, prompting another round of applause as she returned to her seat.

“So who’s next?”

 

* * *

 

“Why did Megan have to do that song?” Sam asked as soon as Felix caught up with him.

“What?”

“She said ‘who else’ when you mentioned her doing that song.”

Felix looked off to the side, as if trying to remember what Sam was talking about. After a few seconds, his eyebrows went up in understanding, and then back down in what could only be called worry.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know that song,” he said.

“I do,” Sam said. “I just don’t know what it’s from.”

“Fuck,” breathed Felix, openly staring at him. “Did you grow up really sheltered or something?”

Sam glared. “No. Are you going to answer the question?”

“Oh, that. It’s just a joke about how she’s sorta got the same name as the chick who sings the song,” Felix said, waving his hand as if to brush the matter aside. “ _My_ question is: How can you not know where that song’s from if you didn’t grow up sheltered?”

They were nearing the gym and Sam slowed, not wanting the conversation to end so abruptly, irritating as it might be.

“I don’t watch a lot of popular things.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve already got things that interest me.”

“Oh?” Felix asked. “Like what?”

The likelihood that Felix would cease to be insufferable when it came to Sam’s interests was incredibly slim. With that in mind, Sam said nothing and walked ahead, leaving him behind once more.

 

* * *

 

“I did my song in drama,” Sam announced, since it was clear that his parents weren’t going to bring it up unless he did.

Instantly, their heads whipped towards him.

“And?”

“How was it?”

“Did they applaud?”

“They always applaud,” Sam answered his father. “But it was fine.”

“Come on, tell us more!” his mother said, giddiness apparent.

He took a breath and set off on his summary of the day’s class. His performance, the ever present applause, the comments about his ‘angry stuff’—

“They think you play angry roles well?” his mother interrupted.

“Apparently.”

A wide grin spread across her face.

“Angry, you?” his father asked.

“ _Apparently_.”

“Oh, if only they knew,” his mother chuckled before abruptly falling quiet. “Though there were those tantrums you’d throw when you were around twelve...”

Sam gave her an unimpressed look at being reminded of _those_.

She shrugged. “But aside from that... They liked your performance?”

“I think so,” Sam said.

His parents glanced at each other with matching smiles, then back at him. His mother brought up a hand to caress the side of his face.

“I’m so proud, Sami.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey, you wanna come sit with us today?”

Sam paused, Mason’s question catching him off guard.

“For lunch,” Mason elaborated.

The table in question was readily visible, Felix already seated there and surrounded by the usual crowd. Megan was in their number, the empty spot at her side clearly meant for Mason. As always, Felix was talking animatedly, everyone’s attention solely on him.

Did Sam want to go sit there?

“No.”

Mason’s hopeful expression faded away.

“But thank you,” Sam added.

“That’s okay,” Mason said. “I know it looks intimidating. Let me know if you change your mind!”

He walked off, leaving Sam to his solitary table.

 

* * *

 

As soon as Sam walked into drama and remembered that he’d already performed, he let out an actual physical breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

Everyone else quickly filtered into the classroom, and in a matter of minutes, the lip-sync performances started anew. For the first time, Sam was free to watch them without a ball of anxiety building in his gut. He felt more engaged than ever.

And that was before it was even Mason’s turn.

It was another song that Sam didn’t recognize, but others did. Soft, quiet, understated. One of the songs he’d originally considered, up until the building crescendo dissuaded him.

Mason managed to embody it perfectly, his posture weak at the song’s beginning, stance slowly growing confident, shoulders going back and face turning up defiantly...

Then deflating, all his spirit spent.

The song finished and applause ensued, with Sam clapping just as loudly as Megan.

 

* * *

 

“Mason’s got something, you know? Yeah, his main thing is stage combat, but that’s really only because no one else can do that,” Felix mused.

Sam leisurely strolled along, listening to Felix’s one-sided conversation.

“I mean, not _no one else_. I’ve done some pretty good fight scenes in my time, but I’d be lying if I said he wasn't amazing at them. That's beside the point though. What I was saying was that it's not the _only_ thing he's got going for him.”

Sam said nothing, content to let Felix fill in the silence all the way to the gym.

 

* * *

 

When biology finished and Mason lingered to chat with him, Sam thought nothing of it.

When Mason continued chatting with him all the way to the cafeteria, Sam thought nothing of it.

When Megan met up with them just as they reached its doors, Sam felt the first inklings of confusion.

He said nothing, as Mason was still talking, and soon enough, Megan was too. Sam deliberated on how to excuse himself from a conversation in full-swing, and eventually decided on simply walking away and leaving them to it.

To his surprise, not only did they follow him, but they also attempted to rope him back into the conversation, as if he’d have anything worthwhile to say before they headed off to Felix’s table.

Except they didn’t.

Sam sat down and both of them took the seats across from him.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Oh, right,” Mason said, looking apologetic. “Sorry, I should’ve asked. It’s just that we wanted to hang out with you, and since you don’t wanna come to our table, we thought we’d come to yours. Is that okay?”

Sam stared at their twin expressions of cautious optimism.

He couldn’t for the life of him imagine what they had to gain from spending their lunch break at his table. He had trouble carrying conversations, he tended to work on assignments after eating, and surely Felix’s table was an overall more enriching experience— at least for those who enjoyed that type of atmosphere, which Megan and Mason evidently did.

But it was their choice to make, so he said, “I have no problem with it.”

Mason let out a relieved sigh and even Megan looked more at ease. Then, just like that, they returned to their conversation, occasionally asking for Sam’s input, but mostly leaving him be.

Once lunch finished, they accompanied him out of the cafeteria as well, with Mason only leaving when he had to start heading for the gym. He gave Megan a peck on the lips and waved goodbye to Sam, and then it was just the two of them on their way to literature class.

“So how are you liking drama?” Megan asked.

“It’s not as bad as it could’ve been.”

She let out a bark of laughter. “Yeah, I get that,” she said, grinning broadly. “I know I definitely wasn’t looking forward to it that first year. And Felix? You think he’s bad now, you oughta have seen him back then.”

Sam looked at her in disbelief.

She nodded grimly. “Believe me, he was _so_ much worse. I had to do a scene with him once, and I swear I haven’t been that frustrated in years. He was _such an asshole_.”

“He isn’t now?”

Megan gave Sam a look that spoke volumes, namely ‘consider yourself lucky, kid’.

They reached their class before she could elaborate.

 

* * *

 

Megan accompanied him to drama, and though their conversation had shifted to something else altogether, he couldn’t help wishing that she’d get back to discussing Felix’s past assholery.

But it wasn’t worth outright asking about. Hopefully the topic would resurface on its own.

 

* * *

 

Like the past three days, drama consisted of various lip-sync presentations. Sam didn’t personally know any of the students performing, but he could still appreciate that some were better than others.

He wondered if Felix was purposely waiting until the last day to perform.

 

* * *

 

“I can’t believe you got those two to ditch our table at lunch.”

“I didn’t ask them to.”

Felix rolled his eyes. “That’s what makes it so bad. It’s like you just sat there being all awkward and lonely, and they just _had_ to go over there and keep you company.”

Sam watched the way Felix talked: His dismissive hand motions, his annoyed tone, his disinterested expression. It all pointed to...

“Are you jealous?” Sam asked.

A scoff accompanied the aimless shake of Felix’s head. “Why would I be _jealous?”_ he asked, eyes wide.

“Hmm.”

“No, really, why would I be jealous!?” Felix asked again.

Sam said nothing, only offering his best facial shrug.

“Pshhh, I have plenty of people at my table. Besides, we’re all still friends, even if they do go off and sit with you once in a while. I don’t care, they can do whatever they want.”

They reached the gym, putting a definitive end to the conversation.

 

* * *

 

Yet again, Mason walked with him to the cafeteria, but upon reaching it, excused both himself and Megan.

“We don’t want to crowd you, and we still wanna hang out with everyone else. We were thinking about maybe switching off? One day we sit over there, one day with you, and so on. Would that be fine?”

“...Yes,” Sam confirmed, surprised that they’d considered coming back to his table at all.

“Great,” Mason said. “See you at drama then!”

 

* * *

 

Sam should’ve seen it coming.

Of course Felix had purposely waited until the last day to perform. Not even the last day, the last possible _moment_. Absolutely everyone else had presented their songs, and now he was the only one left.

Sam recognized the song as soon as he heard the opening notes. It had been one of the more memorable ones from the compilation of song choices— upbeat, bombastic, a full two minutes of gloating. More importantly, it was a repeated song, since another student had already performed it.

That student’s performance had been enjoyable, mostly on account of the song itself, though he’d made a valiant attempt at channeling its energy into his theatrics.

But this was on a whole other level.

Whereas the other student had merely kept pace with the song, relying on it to carry his performance through, Felix soared high above it, using it as the metaphorical wind beneath his wings.

His mouth movements were precise, and though the voice was nothing like his own, there was no mistaking its owner. The song’s words undoubtedly originated from within Felix despite the blatant presence of the stereo, and he traversed the stage with ease, his footwork slick and his every movement in time with the music. He didn’t aim the song at anyone in particular, taking care to lock eyes with each of them throughout his performance.

His message to them all was clear.

‘ _You’re only second-rate_.’

 

* * *

 

“What’d you think? C’mon, gimme your honest opinion.”

“It was good,” Sam admitted.

“‘Good’? Lots of things are ‘good’,” Felix said. “I want details. How good was it? Good enough to send that kid running with his tail between his legs?”

“What?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb. Some kid thinks he can take on a song like that by just standing there making faces, of course I’m gonna have something to say about it. He bit off more than he could chew and made it boring, so I had to teach him a lesson.”

Sam frowned. Was Felix really saying he’d _meant_ to publicly humiliate a classmate? No, not even that. Given the class’s current arrangement, they were all more akin to Felix’s students than his classmates.

“That was cruel,” Sam said.

“Maybe,” Felix replied. “But...”

He paused to open the gym door and turned to Sam.

“That’s show biz.”

 

* * *

 

The locker rooms were closed, the signs on their doors instructing students to head directly into the gym.

Sam went, Felix at his side, and found himself a solitary spot to sit.

At least, solitary until Felix sat down with him.

Sam spared him a glance but said nothing, reaching into his bag and pulling out his history textbook. He’d gotten halfway through the current chapter, and given that tests would continue at the same rate, he would do well to finish it off as soon as possible.

“You’re kidding me.”

Sam stared more intensely down at the textbook.

“You’re seriously gonna sit there and read that boring-ass thing?”

“Maybe if _you_ did,” Sam ground out, “you wouldn’t be failing the class.”

“Whoa, hey! I take offense to that!” Felix indignantly squawked. “I am _not_ failing, I’ve just got better shit to do than memorize every last detail on those stupid tests—”

They both froze as they heard one of the physical education teachers call out someone’s name. In a matter of seconds, the name’s bearer jumped from her seat and hurried over, only to be handed an envelope. She received it and returned to where she’d sat, the process repeating with another student.

“Ah,” Felix said. “Interim reports.”

Unable to focus on the textbook any longer, Sam settled back but kept it open on his lap. It gave him an excuse to ignore people and have people ignore him, though it didn’t seem to work on Felix. Nevertheless, he made himself comfortable and watched as one by one, students were called up to be handed their reports.

Thankfully, but somewhat oddly, Felix kept him company in silence, apparently occupying himself with watching their fellow classmates.

“Gates!”

And there he went, heaving himself up and striding over. He grabbed the envelope he was offered and headed back towards Sam, opening it as he walked.

Curiosity overtook Sam but he held back, making no move to peek over Felix’s shoulder when he sat back down.

A few seconds passed with Felix looking down at his grades, jaw relentlessly grinding. Finally, he jabbed a finger at the page and hissed, “Can you _believe this!?”_

Sam looked at the grade in question.

History.

A 65.

“I thought you weren’t failing,” he said.

“Oh, _haha_ , laugh it up,” Felix muttered. “Never mind the fact that everybody else is probably failing too.”

Sam didn’t get a chance to reply before his own name was called. He could feel Felix’s eyes on him as he went and got his envelope. When he turned to walk back, Felix’s eyes were still on him, unwavering.

It was unnerving.

He sat down and opened the envelope, with Felix making no secret of his own curiosity. Sam unfolded the report inside and quickly scanned over the grades.

All passing, by a wide margin. His lowest was algebra, and even that was well within an acceptable range.

As expected, Felix immediately zeroed in on it.

“Algebra, huh?”

Sam folded up the report and stuck it back in the envelope.

“Hey, we can’t all be perfect,” Felix said, patting his shoulder in a mockery of support. “So what is it? Too many formulas to memorize?”

“I have no problems with memorization, which I think should be obvious from the difference in our history grades.”

Felix scowled. “Geez, a guy tries to be nice, and this is what he gets?”

Sam placed the envelope in his bag and pulled the history textbook back into his lap.

“O Great Sage Sammy,” Felix began, theatrics in full effect. “May we humble mortals be gifted a scrap of your historical wisdom?”

Sam watched him from the corner of his eye.

Felix looked back at him expectantly.

“...What’s the magic word?”

“What... Oh, come on!”

Sam refocused on his textbook, and for a few minutes, he had relative peace.

“... _Please_. There, happy now?”

“Sufficiently,” he said. “What do you want to know?”

Felix managed to shrug with his arms crossed. “I’m not reading all that, so whatever I need to know for the test.”

“Your time would be better spent reading than complaining. How else will you know what you need to?”

“You telling me.”

An exasperated sigh was building up inside Sam. “I don’t know what will be on the test either,” he said.

“Then just give me a rundown.”

Sam let out the sigh.

He spent the rest of the hour summarizing the chapter’s main points while Felix paid rapt attention.

 

* * *

 

“They gave us our grades today,” he announced as his parents settled down in the living room.

Immediately, they both turned to look at him.

“And?” his father asked.

“I’ll go get them.”

One trip to his room later, he was handing his parents the envelope.

They took out the report and looked it over, eyes darting from subject to subject, grade to grade. Eventually they reached the end, at which point they looked up, matching smiles aimed at him.

“They’re all good! Congratulations!” his mother said, reaching out to hug him.

He obediently went and proceeded to get the life squeezed out of him.

“You’re doing great,” his father said, still holding the report in one hand but reaching out to hug him anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Megan's song is ['I Won't Say (I'm In Love)' from _Hercules_.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C377nonHHwk)  
> Mason's song is ['Mr. Cellophane' from _Chicago_.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lE45BiQc1tA)  
> Felix's song is ['You're Only Second Rate' from _The Return Of Jafar_.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wo6v4RauDiI)


	8. Season 1, Episode 7

A new week, a new development.

This time, it came in the form of Mason telling Sam about a newly created lunchtime arrangement. Apparently, he and Megan had declared Tuesday and Thursday to be ‘Sam days’. On those days, barring any major reason for them to do otherwise, they would accompany Sam at his table.

As before, Mason asked for Sam to confirm the arrangement was to his liking.

It was.

 

* * *

 

“Projecting,” Felix called out, voice loud enough that Ms. Green got up and shut the door to the hallway.

Felix shot her an apologetic smile and returned his voice back to its regular volume. “In theatre, to make sure your audience hears what you're saying, you have to project. For once, I’m happy about the timing of this lesson. We start on monologues next week, and you’re gonna need your projection skills to be up to par for those.”

Some excited whispers broke out among the third- and second-years.

“This is mainly for the benefit of the newbies,” Felix said, inclining his head towards the group in question. “A few of you will get the hang of it faster than others, but by the end of next week, I better be able to hear you all loud and clear.”

He went on, explaining the benefits of projection both in the context of drama and in regular life, and then moved on to the how of it. At one point, he asked them all to turn in their seats and lean towards the ground. Once they were as far down as they could go, he had them repeat a couple phrases after him.

“You hear that?” he asked as they sat back upright. “That loudness? It’s because when you lean forward like that, it opens up your diaphragm.” He indicated the area beneath his ribs and said, “Right around here.”

Sam couldn’t remember ever hearing much about the diaphragm before, if he’d even heard about it at all.

Felix continued the impromptu diaphragm lesson, detailing its functions and importance within the world of performance. “But not just that,” he added. “For example, I’m sure a bunch of you newbies aren’t breathing right. ‘I’m not dead yet, how wrong can it be?’ Well...”

He placed a hand on his chest and another on his stomach, nodding at them to do the same.

“When I breathe, I only want one of these hands to be moving. If my diaphragm’s doing its thing and letting me take in as much air as possible, then that hand’s gonna be this one,” he said, patting his stomach. “If I breathe up here”—he patted his chest—“then I’m gonna be short of breath and my voice is gonna suck. Make sure you’re breathing right. That’s your homework!”

 

* * *

 

Sam hadn’t been aware there was any other way to breathe at all. When he’d placed his hands on his chest and stomach, they’d both moved, but mainly the one on his chest.

Had he been breathing wrong his whole life?

“Looking kinda worried there, Sammy. What’s up?” asked Felix, clearly ready for their usual walk to the gym.

“How can people go through life breathing wrong?”

Felix seemed surprised by the question, but was quick to answer, “Just happens, I guess. What about you? Right or wrong?”

“Wrong, I think.”

“Eh, you’ll get the hang of it,” Felix said with a shrug.

 

* * *

 

Sam did not get the hang of it.

 

* * *

 

Tuesday saw Megan and Mason join him at his table once more, discussing all manner of things, sometimes asking Sam for his input and sometimes not.

He found the company more enjoyable than he’d anticipated.

 

* * *

 

“I hope you all did your homework, because today we’re heading to the auditorium,” Felix said. “Feel free to leave your stuff here, we’ll be back before class is over.”

Several minutes later, they found themselves on the auditorium stage, looking out at the rows upon rows of empty seats. Only a few lights were on, enough to let them make their way around the darker setting.

“In a couple weeks, you’re all gonna be up here performing your scenes, and people are gonna be down there watching you. Better get used to the stage now, while you’ve got the chance,” Felix said.

The newbies’ heads turned this way and that, taking in all the details they could, but Sam was too busy looking out at the seats to bother with the stage itself.

“Okay, let’s get started,” Felix gleefully announced, rubbing his hands together. “First off, I don’t expect any of you to have mastered projection in a day. I don’t even expect that at the end of this week. What I _do_ expect is that, by next week, you’ll all be projecting well enough to give some decent monologues in class. And then, hopefully, you’ll get better and better at it, until...”

He turned to face the empty audience and boomed, “ ** _YOU CAN DO THIS!_** _”_

He turned back to them with a smirk. “Pretty neat, huh?”

 

* * *

 

After a few more pointers, Felix hopped off the stage and took a seat a couple rows away, accompanied by Ms. Green. He then proceeded to call out student names, asking them to recite _Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star_ in their loudest voice.

“Remember, it’s not the same as yelling,” he occasionally reminded them.

Sam was extremely glad to see that he was far from being the only one without proper mastery of his diaphragm. More than a few people had weak voices that barely carried to where he stood just a few feet behind them, let alone all the way out to where Felix sat.

But their failures were hardly a comfort.

Sam wished he’d practiced more thoroughly. He hated not meeting expectations— yes, even when those expectations were Felix’s. He _was_ their makeshift teacher, after all.

Sam’s thoughts were cut short by the call of his name. He stepped forward, waited for Felix’s cue, and then began reciting the nursery rhyme like so many others before him.

“Well, you’ve got good enunciation and pacing, so that’s definitely a plus,” Felix said. “Those were gonna be tomorrow’s lesson, but I guess you’d be better off skipping that and working on your projection instead. What’s the loudest ‘ahh’ you can give me without shouting?”

Sam ahh’d.

“Hmm. Keep working on that. Good job on the rest though!”

 

* * *

 

“Why the long face? Sour about the projection thing?”

Despite saying nothing, Sam’s silence managed to divulge his thoughts all the same.

“Don’t be. It takes everyone a while at first,” Felix assured him. “Besides, your diction really is great. You’re way ahead of the game when it comes to that.”

The words were a meager consolation prize, and Sam resolved to do better.

 

* * *

 

When he got home, instead of starting his written homework, Sam took the opportunity to practice projecting while his parents weren’t around.

Again and again, he tried breathing deeply and casting his voice out, hoping to hear it echo throughout the house. To his dismay, it came out as muted as ever, and his chest continued to heave with every breath.

Eventually, the sound of his parents' arrival put a stop to his practice, and he refocused on his other homework.

 

* * *

 

He ate lunch alone, dreading drama and the possibility that the other newbies would soon succeed where he’d failed.

 

* * *

 

As promised, Felix’s lesson that day concerned the proper pronunciation of words, at the proper speed.

More than once, he pointed out Sam as an example of how to give each word the time and attention it deserved. Whether it was an attempt to highlight his failure by deliberately discussing something else, Sam had no idea, but he doubted it was a completely genuine show of praise.

As soon as the class was over, Sam slung his bag over his shoulder and left the room.

If he couldn’t project, could he even be of any use in a theatre environment? He hadn’t ever thought he would, but after the past few weeks, it hadn’t seemed as outlandish an idea as it once had.

No, his lack of mastery over projection was making it clearer and clearer: Any daydreams he’d had about being even the slightest bit good at drama were nothing but pure self-indulgence.

“Whoa, where are you off to so fast?” Felix panted at his side. From the looks of it, he’d run to catch up with Sam.

“I can’t project.”

“And neither can half the newbies. So?”

“I won’t be able to participate onstage.”

Felix rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right. Save the angst for your acting, okay?”

“I can’t participate if no one in the audience can hear me,” Sam insisted.

“Stop it,” Felix said. “The drama queen thing doesn’t suit you. Just keep practicing and you’ll be good to go by next week.”

 

* * *

 

He debated asking his parents for help, but how well would that work? Chances were that they also breathed the wrong way, and how was he meant to learn anything then?

He said nothing.

 

* * *

 

Megan and Mason were at his table again, and thankfully, their conversation turned to the week’s drama lesson. It was exactly the opening Sam needed.

“How do you project?” he asked.

They looked just as confused as he felt.

“Practice, mostly,” Megan spoke up. “Don’t feel bad, it took me a while too. Maybe it would help you to visualize it.”

Mason looked at her curiously. “I’ve never really thought about it that way,” he said.

“How do you visualize it?” Sam asked.

Megan looked off to the side and hummed. “I guess it’s the same voice I’d use if I wanted to be heard over someone, but not in an angry way. Like, if they were saying something dumb and I wasn’t emotionally invested, but still wanted to shut them up.”

“...That’s pretty specific,” Mason said.

She offered him a complacent smile.

Sam contemplated the example.

 

* * *

 

Again, Felix had everyone give their best attempts at projection, with the added caveat of proper diction.

Most of the newbies were starting to manage it, their voices reverberating throughout the room in a way they hadn’t before. There was no doubt that by the time they returned to the auditorium’s stage, their voices would reach several rows farther.

Granted, most of those newbies also slurred and muttered their words. Their speech was unclear, muddled.

It was Sam’s sole comfort.

 

* * *

 

“You’ve been doing the diaphragm exercises, right?”

“Yes.”

“And the projecting ones?”

“ _Yes_.”

“Then you’ve got nothing to worry about,” Felix said. “It’ll come to you eventually.”

“You said we should be projecting by next week,” Sam huffed.

Felix waved him off. “Yeah, it gives you all a goal to work towards. You don’t think you’d be trying half as hard if I’d said you had the rest of the year, do you?”

“But—”

“Ah-ah-ah. No buts. You’ll manage.”

 

* * *

 

“I’m not sure I will.”

Felix looked up from his locker, evidently surprised by Sam’s presence. “Will what?” he asked.

“You said I’d manage to project. I have my doubts.”

“Dude, give it a rest. Keep breathing with your diaphragm and soon enough, you’ll—”

“I haven’t breathed with my diaphragm.”

“You’re killing me here, man. Not once?”

Sam solemnly shook his head.

Felix let out a wholly exasperated breath. “Right. Just... Follow me,” he said, gathering his things and striding out of the locker room.

He left the gym, but instead of heading for the parking lot like everyone else, he turned back towards the main school buildings. Sam followed along as he’d been instructed to, curious where they were going.

“We can’t sneak into the auditorium,” Felix spoke as they walked, “but I’m not about to do this in public, so I hope you’re fine with the next best thing.”

Sam’s curiosity grew, but he withheld his questions and continued following along. To his surprise, Felix led them to the hall outside the library. It was currently deserted, but distant chatter could be heard as students packed their things and prepared to head home.

“C’mere,” Felix muttered, heading towards a sizable nook in the wall. It housed a set of doors, likely a storage closet of some sort.

Sam cautiously approached.

Felix set his things down and grabbed one of Sam’s wrists, yanking him into the nook and practically shoving him against a wall.

“Wh—”

“Shut up,” Felix said, pinning one of his shoulders to the wall.

Before Sam could protest, his bag was pulled away and deposited on the floor. “Felix—”

“Is your back completely against the wall?”

The question caught him off guard. He assessed the situation. “Yes,” he answered.

Felix tapped his shoulders. “These need to go down.”

Though he was still confused, Sam’s curiosity won out and he tried to follow Felix’s instructions, relaxing his shoulders as best he could.

“Better,” Felix said, then set one hand on Sam’s chest and another on his stomach. “Deep breath.”

Sam complied.

“Hmm. Yeah, no,” Felix said. “Try again.”

Sam did, but found that Felix’s hand was pushing back against his chest. The resistance wasn’t enough to stop him from breathing, but it did inconvenience him.

“Stop.”

Sam did.

“Forget about breathing deep,” Felix said, confusing Sam further. “Just try to move my other hand.” He drummed his fingers against Sam’s stomach.

Sam took a frustrated breath, once again meeting resistance from Felix’s upper hand. He huffed in irritation, and his stomach pressed against Felix’s lower hand.

“There you go,” Felix approved. “Guess the anger thing really does work for you. Now you just have to keep doing that.”

“I can’t be angry every time I’m onstage,” Sam pointed out.

“Can’t you?”

“No...”

“Could’ve fooled me. Every time you get up there it’s like you’re dying to throw some sort of hissy fit.”

Annoyance crept up Sam’s spine. “I am _not_ ,” he refuted.

Felix gave him a bored look. “Like I said, could’ve fooled me. At any rate, I’m pretty sure I was right about you being a bitch.”

Sam gritted his teeth.

“You really kind of are. You know that, right?”

“ _Felix_ —”

“What, gonna whine at me some more? Gonna keep begging for my help because you can’t fucking handle one measly assignment!?”

“ ** _Felix!_** _”_

“Congratulations, you’re projecting,” Felix said, stepping back and pulling his hands away. “Feel free to thank me whenever.”

Sam blinked.

“What, cat got your tongue? For a while there, you were even breathing right. I told you anger works wonders for you, didn’t I?”

Sam watched Felix crouch down to grab his things. He even hefted up Sam’s bag and thrust it at him.

“Go home and lie down with a book on your stomach. Then just get angry or whatever it is you do when you think about me,” Felix said, winking before he turned on his heel and left without a backwards glance.

 

* * *

 

Sam got home and did exactly that.

Despite the overwhelming sensation of silliness it evoked, he took the opportunity to recite _Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star_ again.

By the fifth time, his voice consistently maintained a heightened volume.

Accomplishment unfurled in his gut, and he continued practicing until his parents got home.

 

* * *

 

The history test came and went, as did all his other classes.

Once he walked into drama, his insides started fluttering with anxiety, but also anticipation. Possibly excitement too. He was _eager_ to show off what he’d managed to do, what he’d perfected in the matter of a day.

It was true that he hadn’t managed to start breathing right all of the time, but like Felix had said, that would come eventually. For now, he could project on command, which was leagues beyond what he’d previously thought himself capable of.

As the class went on, Felix called more and more people up. Some could project, some couldn’t, and some could speak clearly while others still had some work to do.

And then it was Sam’s turn.

He strode to the front of the room, took a deep breath, and belted out _Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star_ directly at Felix.

When he finished, several people cheered, the loudest of which were Megan and Mason.

Sam stared at Felix, who stared back with a grin.

“Good job, Sammy.”

 

* * *

 

“I’m impressed.”

Sam allowed himself a self-satisfied smile.

“Who knew insulting you would get results?” Felix laughed. “Makes me wonder what some positive reinforcement might do.”

Sam wasn’t sure how to reply to that, assuming a reply was even necessary, and Felix didn’t seem to have anywhere to take the conversation either.

The rest of their walk to the gym was spent in a tentative silence.


	9. Season 1, Episode 8

When their history tests were handed back, Sam made sure to watch Felix’s reaction.

After a few seconds of running his eyes over the test, Felix tucked it away and leaned back in his seat with a considerably calmer expression than he'd worn in the past. He caught Sam’s gaze and offered a brief smile.

Sam returned it.

 

* * *

 

Biology consisted of yet another worksheet.

Sam and Mason partnered up for it and there was little chatter between them, with their focus going towards completing it before the end of class.

Most of their focus, at least.

Sam had spent the entire weekend with his attention split two ways: On whatever he was doing at the time, and on whatever might be in store for him—for _all_ of them—in drama.

The latter brought forth a strange mixture of tension and anticipation. The tension was as uncomfortable as any tension he ever felt, and he’d much rather do without it. But the anticipation? It was different.

He wondered if every drama student experienced the anticipation. It wasn’t particularly enjoyable, but he still found himself growing fond of the feeling. It gave him something to look forward to, to speculate on and get out of bed for.

Not that he had problems with morning punctuality, but the energy boost was a nice touch.

Sam eyed Mason, who was poring over the textbook pages and filling in the blanks on his worksheet.

Did he also anticipate drama? Is that why he’d taken it twice, aside from the fact that Megan was in the class? Did she feel the same way too?

Then again, she was a natural, which might affect her anticipation. It wouldn’t be the same as Mason’s.

What if hers was even stronger?

Sam shuddered. He could barely handle the roiling in his gut for a single weekend; he couldn’t imagine what it must be like for someone like Megan, who had taken drama for three years and was _good_ at it, had a _reason_ to anticipate it.

Mason looked up at him. “You okay?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Mason looked unconvinced, but all he did was glance between their worksheets and say, “We’ve got five minutes left. Here’s what I filled out so far.”

 

* * *

 

The week’s literature assignment was to construct a poster. It was a group project, and they could choose who to work with.

Sam watched everyone quickly form their groups.

“Sam! Over here,” called Megan.

Perplexed, he gathered his things and went to sit down with her group. It consisted of herself and two other girls, presumably friends of hers.

“You know each other?” one of them asked, looking from Megan to him and back again.

“Yeah,” Megan said. “We’re in drama together.”

And just like that, he was in the group as well.

 

* * *

 

The second Sam walked into drama, three things simultaneously happened.

He felt the tension within him leave, muscles that had been pulled taut relaxing at last.

The anticipation that had been nestled in his gut uncoiled, letting him breath deep and easy.

He felt _relieved_ to be in the room, which was what brought him to understand that there was no longer any hope for him.

He was becoming a theatre kid.

 

* * *

 

The assignment of the week was monologues. According to Felix, they were each to select—or write, for the more ambitious among them—a one-minute monologue to perform the next week.

“It can be from anything. Plays, movies, shows. Just so long as it’s ‘age appropriate’, whatever that means,” he’d said.

Sam paid attention to his tidbits of advice, taking notes, and while it all seemed helpful in general, none of it was of any use when it came to actually picking a monologue.

Sam had seen his fair share of media, but pinpointing a speech he could do justice to was no easy task. He racked his memory for possibilities throughout the hour but came up blank.

When the class ended, he gathered his things and made his way outside the room, where he proceeded to stand and wait.

The way Felix’s steps faltered upon emerging from the room and spotting Sam standing there was endlessly entertaining. His eyebrows pulled together and his lips parted, but before he could say anything, Sam began walking towards the gym.

A moment later, Felix was at his side.

“You waited for me?”

“You’d catch up anyway,” Sam said. “It’s less annoying like this.”

Felix gave a pleased hum. “Glad to see you’re as rude as ever,” he said.

 

* * *

 

Sam finished his homework, ate his dinner, and got ready for bed, but the thought of finding a suitable monologue kept him up, tossing and turning.

If worse came to worse, he knew he could count on Mason to recommend something for him. He could probably count on Megan too. Even Felix was likely to help, in his own strange way.

Sam had nothing to worry about.

Despite that, sleep still eluded him.

He found his thoughts straying from the monologue. Aimless and fleeting, with an undercurrent of stress accompanying them all.

Was he stressed?

He didn’t think so, but what did he know? It usually wasn’t until after he’d de-stressed that he realized he’d ever been stressed in the first place, and if he _was_ stressed, then there was no simple way for him to de-stress either. His stress tended to be a result of unfinished goals, and he highly doubted he could finish any while in bed.

He tossed and turned some more.

A glance at his alarm told him it was later than he’d prefer it to be. A good night’s sleep was crucial to the accomplishment of goals, after all.

He shut his eyes, trying his hardest to fall asleep. It became evident that his approach wouldn’t work once he peeked an eye open and saw how much time had passed.

He let out a huff. He needed to sleep, but how?

He stared at the ceiling.

There was one method he hadn’t tried yet. It tended to be more trouble than it was worth, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

He trailed a hand down his front and under his waistband, fingers softly brushing over himself.

It wasn’t that he _disliked_ masturbating. Far from it. The experience was always enjoyable and he was well-aware of the benefits involved. More than once, he’d considered doing it more often.

Well, there had been those frenzied months a few years ago...

No, he had to focus. That was always his problem, and probably why the end result never seemed particularly worth it. The physical pleasure, the release, those were things he could always count on. But beyond that, his mind strayed too much for him to get lost in any sort of fantasy.

He’d managed it a handful of times, and it was the memory of those times that kept him coming back to the whole endeavor.

But none of that mattered now. He wasn’t after a mind-blowing orgasm, he just wanted to fall asleep.

He worked up a full erection, then began touching himself in earnest. As he did so, his other hand reached for the tissues in his bedside drawer and pulled out a couple.

Soon enough, he could feel himself drawing close to the brink, spurred on by the mounting physical pleasure.

Just a bit more...

.....

And he was done.

He wiped his mess up and tossed the tissues into his trash bin.

Almost immediately, he felt weariness settle onto him like a warm blanket, lulling him to sleep at last.

 

* * *

 

Halfway through the day, it began to rain.

The rain made no difference to Sam’s routine until his walk to the gym. Whereas the school’s main buildings were all interconnected by a series of covered walkways, the space leading to the gym was completely barren. While it wasn’t raining heavily, the walk across it would be long enough that he was bound to be soaked by the time he arrived.

“Lucky you,” Felix said as they left drama. “That bag of yours oughta keep you dry enough, but if I use my books, they’ll get all wet and the school’ll be pissed. I think they charge fifty bucks for each? Either way, can you believe that? Having to keep books dry instead of myself, fucking ridiculous.”

Sam peered out at the gym from behind the glass doors. “You should invest in a bag. It has uses besides being a replacement umbrella.”

“Nah, too nerdy.”

Sam didn’t see fit to dignify that with an answer.

“Hey. Wanna make a run for it?”

A glance at Felix confirmed he was serious. Sam opened his mouth but Felix beat him to it.

“Bet you fifty bucks I’ll get there first!”

He yanked one of the doors open and scrambled out.

 

* * *

 

“You owe me fifty bucks.”

“I never agreed to the bet.”

“Pshhh. For someone who didn’t agree to it, you sure tried to win.”

“I had no desire to get any wetter than was strictly necessary.”

Felix laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Whatever you say, Sammy. You still owe me fifty bucks.”

 

* * *

 

As soon as Sam and Megan walked into literature, they pushed their desks together and got out their notes.

The group had gathered all the information they needed for the poster, and the only thing left was to actually start on it— except for the fact that, to their dismay, one of the group’s members was absent. Specifically, the one who’d already volunteered to create the poster.

The remaining member volunteered in her stead, which worked out well at first. Neat handwriting, good color choices.

But the _art_.

Sam wouldn’t dream of calling himself an artist, but he knew he could do better than _that_. It was too small, misshapen, ugly.

He felt Megan’s eyes on him.

She turned to her doodling friend and cleared her throat.

“Hey, uh, why don’t you take a break? Sam can probably take over. Right, Sam?”

 

* * *

 

“Why did you do that?” he asked her on their way to drama.

“You were practically glaring holes into the poster.”

He felt a vague sense of shame at having been so obvious. “You didn’t even know if I could draw well,” he pointed out.

“Sure,” Megan said, “but it’s not like you could’ve drawn any worse.”

 

* * *

 

Drama consisted of the usual improvisation games, with occasional monologue-relevant tips thrown in.

Sam still had no idea what to pick, and had started seriously considering who he should ask for help. The way he saw it, either Megan or Mason were his best bets.

While it was true that Felix had already helped him once, his methods had been disconcerting, to say the least. Not to mention that Sam had no desire to seem overly reliant on him. Felix’s accusations of helplessness may have been meant to rile him up, but they’d also hit a little too close to home for comfort.

To Sam’s chagrin, the first words out of Felix’s mouth on their walk to the gym were, “Picked a monologue yet?”

“No.”

“That’s okay. You’ll find one soon enough.”

Sam said nothing.

“Or,” Felix suggested, “you can always ask for my help again. That worked out pretty well, in my personal and completely unbiased opinion.”

Sam looked at him.

Felix grinned.

Sam barely held back an answering smile.

 

* * *

 

On Thursday, the bell rang and Felix wasn’t in history.

 

* * *

 

“Is Felix absent?” he asked Mason on the way to lunch.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Disappointment came first, shortly followed by surprise at the disappointment.

 

* * *

 

Each group had to present their poster in front of the class, with every member participating.

Sam was glad to see the previously absent member of their group had returned, as that ensured no one else would have to take up her portion of the presentation. Megan likely would’ve done it, but just because she could didn’t mean she should have to.

As was normal in the time preceding group presentations, tension slowly gnawed away at him. It was raw and unfiltered, with no strangely enjoyable anticipation to accompany and lessen its effects.

By the time it was his group’s turn, the tension had reduced him to a sweating mess in a Sam-shaped husk.

The four of them made their way up to the front of the room. Megan set their poster on the stand and began reciting her part of the presentation.

Her words sounded completely natural. Had she memorized them? It didn’t seem like it, but she was covering each and every one of her points. She had to have memorized those at least, if not the whole thing, word-for-word.

Was that what monologues were like? Reciting something from memory in a way so natural as to cast doubt on whether or not the words were spontaneous?

“—and that’s where the story’s symbolism comes in. Sam?”

Right, that was his cue.

One by one, in the order he’d memorized them, he listed the instances of symbolism their assigned story had contained. He finished abruptly, there was a short pause, and then the next group member took over.

The tension instantly left him.

 

* * *

 

“You seemed nervous,” Megan commented. “You don’t when you’re in drama.”

He considered her observation while she watched him intently.

“I suppose so,” he finally said.

“But why?”

He considered that too, all the way to the drama classroom.

“I don’t know.”

 

* * *

 

Ms. Green took over drama in Felix’s absence.

It was—as the class didn’t hesitate to point out—wonderfully ironic. A substitute replacing her replacement? ‘Peak irony’, one of the newbies had called it.

Ms. Green conducted things in much the same way a substitute was expected to, with a few reminders about the upcoming monologues along with an invitation to start their improvisation games anew.

And that was that.

It wasn’t much different from what Felix did on days without lessons.

Sam was still disappointed.

 

* * *

 

When Felix strolled into history looking none the worse for wear, Sam once again felt the tension instantly leave him.

Oddly enough, he'd had no idea the tension was there in the first place.

 

* * *

 

“I need a monologue,” he asked Mason upon walking into biology.

Mason looked up from his notebook, expression lost. A second later, he seemed to process Sam’s request, at which point he somehow managed to appear even more lost.

“Sam, it’s Friday. That gives you just the weekend and a little of next week to practice,” he chided.

“I know. I can do it.”

Mason sighed. “How am I supposed to get you a monologue before the weekend?”

Sam stilled, thought about it.

Unfortunate.

Before he could fall too deep into the pit of despair that resided within him at all times, Mason spoke up again.

“I’m sure Megan can think of something off the top of her head. You could also ask Felix for—”

“No.”

“—some help... Wait, why not?”

It was too complicated to explain, and the bell rang before he was forced to make an attempt.

 

* * *

 

“I heard you need a monologue.”

“Yes.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” Megan said, handing him a sheet of paper. “I’ve got a couple memorized, and this seemed like something you could pull off.”

He scanned the page. The words were repetitive and cliche, and the twist at the end was predictable.

He doubted he could do it justice.

Megan lightly swatted his arm. “Oh, don’t give me that look. You’ll do fine, and if you don’t, then at least you’ll have had the balls to do it. Not many guys would,” she said.

He could see why.

 

* * *

 

The entirety of literature was devoted to watching a video about the stories they’d made posters for.

He paid attention, but looked down at the monologue whenever he thought he could get away with it, already trying to memorize the words.

If he was going to do it, he was going to do it right.

 

* * *

 

Another day, another round of improvisation games.

“Remember, monologues start next week!” Felix reminded them. “Bring in a copy of what you’re performing, since memorization’s half the grade.”

Class ended, and Sam waited for Felix outside the room.

“I’m sensing a lack of desperation. Found yourself a monologue?” Felix asked as soon as he walked out.

“You could say that.”

“Ambiguous, I like it. Gonna keep it a surprise?”

“Yes.”

Felix shrugged. “Eh, it was worth a try. I’ll be looking forward to hearing it.”

“You were absent yesterday.”

There was a pause during which Felix glanced around, as if trying to spot what had spurred the change in topic. “Uh... Yeah?”

“Why?”

“Does it matter?”

Sam considered that.

“No.”

 

* * *

 

The idea of reciting his monologue over and over again within his parents’ hearing range wasn’t particularly appealing, so Sam took to the woods to practice.

Though he was certain they’d be encouraging, and maybe even provide some good critique, he wasn’t entirely ready for the level of praise and adoration that would accompany his first performance in front of them.

He wasn’t sure that postponing said praise and adoration until the class’s auditorium performance would be much better, but he’d deal with the repercussions when the time came.

For now, he trudged out into the middle of nowhere, far from his backyard or any neighbor’s, and got to work.

 

* * *

 

He memorized it, which was half the grade.

The other half was acting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sam's monologue is from [_10 Things I Hate About You_.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=31N_HM2f9Ks&feature=youtu.be&t=45s)


	10. Season 1, Episode 9

Felix caught Sam on the way to history, greeting him by way of, “Gonna do your monologue today?”

He’d been wondering that himself. The weekend had rushed by in a burst of practice sessions, resulting in Sam knowing his monologue inside and out. By Sunday, he was trying out expressions in the mirror, associating lines with facial movements.

By all accounts, he should be ready to perform.

“I don’t know,” he said instead.

“That’s not a ‘no’.”

“It isn’t,” he confirmed.

Felix’s lips curled up into a smile.

 

* * *

 

The biology teacher passed out information sheets detailing a project due in a couple months, advising them to get a head start on it: A research paper with citations, and a well-designed pamphlet to go along with it.

There was muted groaning from several students, but Sam failed to see what was so troubling.

They had months to work on it.

 

* * *

 

“Did you end up sticking with Megan’s monologue?”

“Yes.”

Mason looked scandalized. “Whoa, seriously?”

“Yes,” Sam repeated, worry rearing its head. He remembered Megan saying it would be a bold choice, but he hadn’t thought it was _that_ bold.

Mason shook his head but smiled. “I’ll be rooting for you, Sam,” he said, then left for Felix’s lunch table.

 

* * *

 

Halfway through lunch, Sam spotted Megan enthusiastically sending him a thumbs-up, with Felix curiously looking back and forth between them.

 

* * *

 

Megan was on her way towards him as soon as lunch finished. “You memorized it?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said, gathering his things.

“And you’re ready to perform?”

“.....”

“You don’t have to be!” she assured him. “You’ve got the boring part out of the way, at least.”

“No. I can perform.”

“Yeah?”

Sam nodded.

“Perfect,” she said.

 

* * *

 

Sam remembered the relief he’d felt after being the first one to perform his lip-sync. He’d been able to fully relax and enjoy everyone else’s presentations without a care.

As much as he’d like to, he doubted he could do the same thing again. He wasn’t nearly as confident about his monologue as he’d been about his lip-sync— though it was true that, in a way, his monologue was easier.

While the lip-synching assignment had also required memorization and acting, it came with predetermined timing too. Remembering where the pauses were and for how long they lasted was memorization in a league of its own.

On the other hand, they had to use their own voices when it came to monologues. It was something they’d all done on numerous occasions. The vast majority of their drama work was with their own voices.

But never for one full minute, nonstop, with everyone’s attention on them and them alone.

Sam anxiously waited for the class to start and, once it did, still wasn’t sure whether he’d work up the nerve to perform.

No, he’d already told Megan he would. He couldn’t go back on his word, much less on his word to a...

A proxy friend? Friend-adjacent, once removed?

He ought to clear that up sometime.

Felix grinned out at them and said, “It’s monologue week, and we all know what that means! That’s right, next week we get the ball rolling on our scenes. Directors-to-be, you better keep your eyes on the lookout for talent. But enough about that! If you’re ready to go, step right up and hand me your monologue.”

 

* * *

 

A third-year, a newbie, a second-year, Megan, another newbie, and then Sam finally stood up.

“Oh, I’ve been hearing things about this one,” Felix remarked as Sam walked to the front, monologue in hand.

“Good things, right?” Megan asked.

“Of course, of course,” Felix replied as he turned to look at her, idly holding out a hand for Sam’s paper.

Sam held it against Felix’s outstretched fingers and they instantly closed. The movement, along with the energy emanating from Felix as he turned back around, combined to give off the distinct impression that an overgrown flytrap had just caught its prey.

Felix offered Sam a cursory smile before sliding his attention down to the paper.

He froze.

Sam watched for any sort of reaction, and he spotted Megan and Mason doing the same. A few seconds passed, with the rest of the class evidently none the wiser about Felix’s sudden derailment.

At last, Felix looked back up at Sam, expression carefully neutral.

“Well, then. Off you go.”

Sam didn’t need to be told twice. He took in a deep breath, a _right_ breath, held it, released it, and he was ready.

As ready as he would ever be, in any case.

He recited the words, all painstakingly committed to memory, and aimed them right at Felix. It was always easier to aim his performances at Felix, and though he suspected it might get him in trouble down the line, he wasn’t about to start changing his strategy now. The rest of the class went ignored as every aspect of his performance went directly towards Felix’s silent, emotionless face.

It was a face that most people would associate with boredom.

Sam knew that wasn’t the case, not after his conspicuous non-reaction to seeing what the monologue would be.

The minute was coming to its end, the words and seconds having gone by surprisingly quickly. Sam recited the monologue’s last couple lines, the pauses between them growing longer and greater in number, until entire seconds preceded the delivery of his final words.

The seconds-long pause then seemed to sidestep those words, extending outwards into the room and staying long past its due.

Predictably, Felix was the one to put it out of its misery. “Goodness gracious,” he deadpanned, “if only you’d said something sooner, Sammy.”

There was a chorus of chuckling from throughout the room, but Sam didn’t pay it any mind; he’d come to terms with the idea that laughter in drama was never ill-intended. Instead, he kept his focus on Felix, waiting for a break in his facade, but to Sam’s surprise, it didn’t come.

“Honestly though, that was pretty good,” Felix said, voice maintaining its neutrality. “I’ve never heard it performed that way. Have you seen the movie?”

“No,” Sam said.

Felix nodded. “That explains it. See, everyone? That’s why monologues work best when you pick something you haven’t heard before. You give it your own spin instead of trying to copy what you remember hearing. For Sammy here, his spin was...”

Felix stared at him for a long moment, then guessed, “Confused?”

Was Felix asking him? That was a waste of time, given that his guess was as good as Felix’s.

Fairly early into the monologue, Sam’s recitation had become automatic, the words spurred on by sheer muscle memory. And that was to say nothing of his face, which he had absolutely no idea as to the ultimate fate of.

He decided to just nod.

Felix nodded again.

Another pause.

“Alright, who’s next? We have time for one more.”

 

* * *

 

“You really did that, huh?”

“Did what?” Sam asked as they began their customary gym walk.

“ _That_ ,” Felix unhelpfully provided. “All of that.”

Sam raised an eyebrow in question.

“Oh, don’t play dumb. You’re not naive enough to think that was anything but a big, stinking heap of touchy-feely garbage. You know, the kind of crap most guys wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole,” Felix snapped. “Like, there’s sappy, sentimental bullshit, and then there’s _that_.”

“I wasn’t aware you’d have such an aversion to it,” Sam said.

Felix started to wave him off, then seemed to think better of it and just shrugged. “I mean, I don’t? Not any more than most people, probably. But that’s not my point! My point is that you got up there and you _did it_.”

“I did.”

“And the _way_ you did it...” Felix trailed off, a distant look in his eyes.

They walked in silence for a moment.

“On that note,” Felix suddenly piped up, “I can’t say I’ve ever had my own personal performer, who performs for me and only me.” He indicated himself with a flourish and winked, adding, “Careful, Sammy. I might wanna keep you.”

 

* * *

 

“I did a monologue in drama today,” he informed his parents as the three of them sat down to watch a movie.

Instantly, the movie was all but forgotten in the mad scramble to find out all there was to know about Sam’s strides forward in the world of the performing arts.

 

* * *

 

The history teacher handed out practice worksheets for the test and declared the class free to partner up.

In a matter of seconds, Felix was at Sam’s side, sliding into a freshly unoccupied seat. “So here’s the thing,” he said, lowering his voice. “These worksheets have fuck all to do with what’s on the tests. Remember that time in gym when you summarized the chapter for me? That actually helped, and wouldn’t you know, I passed the next test. Not by _much_ , but still.”

He motioned Sam closer.

Sam complied by leaning forward a few millimeters.

“I’ll cut you a deal,” Felix whispered. “I’ll fill out both our worksheets, and while I do that, you write me a nice list of things I should know for the test.”

Sam had the split-second mental image of agreeing to Felix’s deal, only to wait until the end of class to hand him a list consisting solely of ‘the’ and ‘chapter’. He brushed it off and said, “A deal implies both parties stand to gain. I already know most of the worksheet answers, so I have nothing to gain from your ‘deal’.”

Felix glared at him. “ _Fine_ ,” he hissed out. “What would you like to gain?”

That was a question Sam wasn’t prepared for. Did he want anything at all? He’d be willing to provide study material if Felix simply asked, which he had once before. In fact...

“Nothing,” Sam said. “Just ask for what you want.”

Felix squinted at him with much the same level of scrutiny garnered by crossword puzzles. He was clearly trying to determine if there was some hidden trap that Sam was luring him into, but he was wrong.

It wasn’t hidden.

After a bit more deliberation, Felix asked, “...Give me study notes?”

“Of course,” Sam said.

Felix’s face slowly gave way to a smirk.

“But first,” Sam added, “what’s the magic word?”

 

* * *

 

An hour later, Felix had his own personal study sheet.

“I hate you,” he said, trailing Sam as they left history.

Sam only smiled to himself.

 

* * *

 

Lunch kicked off with Megan’s endless praise of Sam’s monologue.

“You picked it, of course you think it was a great choice,” Mason said with a laugh.

“No, I know,” Megan agreed, pausing to take a bite of food. “I didn’t think it would turn out _so_ great though.”

Mason raised an eyebrow. “You mean you gave Sam a not-so-great monologue? For shame, Meg.”

“ _Noooo_ ,” she whined, lightly smacking the table as if to stamp out Mason’s allegations.

Sam amusedly watched their fake bickering throughout the rest of lunch.

 

* * *

 

“But seriously,” Megan told him as they walked to literature, “you were amazing.”

 

* * *

 

Monologues continued, with Mason one of several to perform.

Sam thoroughly enjoyed every single one of the day’s performances, both on their own merits and as a direct result of no longer having to worry about his.

 

* * *

 

“I know I said I hate you, but if that study sheet ends up being half as useful as it looks, I might just have to take that back.”

“I’m flattered,” Sam sarcastically provided.

“See, that’s what I like about you, Sammy. Always so courteous, so accommodating.”

“You’re not making the idea of helping you again seem very appealing.”

“You’d help me again?” Felix asked, eyebrows raised. “Well, gee, that’s exactly what I’m talking about. You’re such a goody two shoes. Be careful, or people are gonna take advantage of that.”

“People like you?”

A scandalized gasp met his words.

“ _Me?_ I would _never_ ,” Felix said.

Sam rolled his eyes.

 

* * *

 

Wednesday and Thursday progressed in much the same way as they always did, but Friday brought about an unexpected development in the form of Felix’s gratitude.

After their history test, Felix fled the classroom as soon as the bell rang, which Sam had no idea whether to take as a good or bad sign. His doubts were cleared up the second he stepped out the door and found himself getting yanked into a semi-secluded corner of the hall.

“ _Dude_ ,” Felix gasped, eyes alight with awe. “I might’ve actually gotten a decent grade on that? For once, I _knew_ what the fuck those questions were talking about! And—”

He cut himself off and glanced around, but Sam doubted anyone was paying them any mind. Nevertheless, Felix lowered his voice from a stage whisper to a slightly quieter stage whisper.

“I know I kinda played it off as no big deal, but I seriously can’t afford to fail a class,” he said. “Like... Come on. I’m about to graduate. I need to get the hell out of this town, and I can’t exactly do that if I get flunked by some dumbass teacher who can’t be bothered to _teach what’s on the fucking test_.”

Sam was taken aback. He didn’t think he’d ever seen Felix so angry, not to mention so _honest_. It was uncanny, like human teeth where they didn’t belong.

His eyes slid to Felix’s teeth on impulse.

Yep, same teeth as always.

He looked back up to find Felix watching him in confusion, brow furrowed.

“...I’m glad I could help,” Sam blurted out, then hurried off towards biology.

 

* * *

 

Sam had just sat down, prepared to eat his lunch in solitude, when Felix dropped into the seat across from him.

Sam stared, then looked over at Felix’s usual table.

It was as occupied as ever, with the only missing piece being Felix himself.

Sam glanced back at Felix and wondered if he’d have to ask what was going on.

He was spared from formulating the question by what proceeded to tumble out of Felix’s mouth.

“Okay, so. Earlier. There I am, thinking I made things weird, but then _you_ go and make things _really_ weird. The fuck was that about?”

Sam suspected he had an idea of what Felix meant, but he refused to bring it up himself on the off chance that they were thinking of entirely different things.

“What was what about?” he asked.

“You!” Felix hissed, reverting to stage whispering despite the chatter in the cafeteria being more than enough to mask their conversation. “One minute I’m trying to say thanks for academically saving my ass, and the next you’re all zoned out, staring at my— I dunno, me.”

Hmm. Sam had plenty of experience salvaging such situations. He just needed to be honest.

“I do that sometimes,” he said. “You should know.”

“Uh, yeah!? You do that a lot!” Felix said, leaning forward across the table. “But it’s usually just, y’know, whatever. This time you were being all intense and fucking creepy!”

Sam frowned. He knew he was awkward, had a tendency to stare, and that his socialization skills were a cobbled mess barely held together by willpower and anxiety. He _knew_ , and yet Felix’s words had struck a nerve, instantly replacing any inkling of guilt he’d felt with unbridled anger.

“ _I can’t help it_ ,” he growled. “If it bothers you that much, **_leave me alone_** **.** ”

It took him a second to realize that Felix had slunk back against his chair, plastering himself to it in an attempt to put as much distance between them as possible.

...So that’s how it was.

Sam glared, then gathered his things and left the table.

He could spend the rest of lunch in the library.

He wasn’t hungry anyway.

 

* * *

 

He walked into literature with mere seconds to spare before the bell, and immediately saw Megan trying to get his attention.

He wasn’t angry at her, nor at Mason.

In a way, he wasn’t really even angry at Felix.

He was just...

Tired.

Megan shouldn’t have to deal with him in that state. No one should.

He made it a point to ignore her throughout the rest of the class, and as soon as it finished, left the room and took a turn leading away from drama.

He’d wait to head to class until the halls were emptier.

 

* * *

 

From an outsider’s point of view, and even from Sam’s, Felix seemed perfectly fine.

He conducted the class as cheerfully as he always did, and even performed a rousing monologue at the very end.

It spoke volumes about his acting skills.

Either that, or he genuinely wasn’t that bothered by the day’s events.

That was just as well. Sam really, truly didn’t mind.

He was just so, so _tired_.

His walk to the gym was spent alone, though he knew that if he looked over his shoulder, Felix would be following him in the distance.

 

* * *

 

Sam got home and immediately shut himself in his room.

He finished all his homework, then began working on the upcoming week’s.

Reading the next chapter of his history textbook was going well until he found himself mentally drafting up a study sheet, so he returned it to his bag and cast about for something else to do.

Well, the biology teacher _had_ recommended they get a head start on the project due in two months.

No time like the present.


	11. Season 1, Episode 10

Sam arrived at school with a not-at-all unhealthy dose of caffeine in his system and a completed biology project in his bag.

He knew it was early for the latter, but the teacher did say that extra credit would be given for projects turned in before the due date.

His first class was a breeze to get through, the caffeine in full effect and the formulas keeping his mind from straying.

His second class was history, and he felt a heavy _something_ settle in his gut when it was time to go to it. All the same, he kept his head down and followed his usual route until he was walking into the room and taking his seat. He made sure to keep his eyes on his desk, on his things, on the notes he was taking.

No, he didn’t really need to take notes, but it kept him occupied.

He only faltered once, when he glanced up and spotted Felix across the room.

Those who knew Felix in passing would say he looked fine.

Sam, it turned out, knew Felix more than he’d thought he did, and Felix looked like a mess.

How exactly, Sam couldn’t say. There was nothing visibly wrong with him. Not a hair out of place, not a stain on his clothes.

But he was _off_ somehow. Wrong.

Sam turned back to his notes.

Felix was no concern of his.

 

* * *

 

Except he apparently _was_ , at least if Mason had anything to say about it.

“Did something happen with you and Felix?”

Sam said nothing.

Mason said nothing either, but his concerned look did all the talking for him.

 

* * *

 

“Sam, what happened?”

“It’s not a Tuesday,” he said.

Megan sat down at his table anyway. “What happened?” she insisted.

He sighed. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Everyone’s business should be their own, and no one else’s business should be needlessly meddled in.

He had a feeling it would be rude to say as much.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said instead, which was blatantly untrue unless one added a ‘to you’ at the end, which he mentally did.

“Of course it matters,” she argued. “Even if _we_ weren’t friends, I’m still Felix’s friend, and he’s been acting weird since Friday, like you.”

Sam’s main takeaway was that she’d called him her friend. He knew he’d find it more touching if he wasn’t in the middle of a who-knew-what-type-of crisis, with his mental faculties barely present and his emotions on an apparent leave of absence.

He hadn’t even started putting together a reply before she kept talking.

“Look, I have absolutely no idea what happened between you two, and if you don’t wanna tell me, fine. But Sam? I’ve known Felix for three years, and I’ve seen him get like this just _once_ before. I don’t know what exactly happened that time, since we weren’t friends yet, and maybe I won’t know this time either. I don’t mind. I just...”

She took a breath.

“I don’t like seeing him like this, and I don’t like seeing you like this. So if there’s any way to fix it... Please try?”

Sam swallowed. Opened his mouth. Shut it, swallowed again.

Gave words up as a lost cause and proceeded to occupy his mouth with a sandwich until Megan left.

 

* * *

 

Felix asked for all prospective third-year directors to have a word with Ms. Green either before or after class.

“Don’t ask to direct unless you’re ready to commit. We have limited slots, so we wanna make sure they go to people who are ready for that kind of work,” he said, leveling the third-years with an even stare. “If you’re not sure yet, that’s fine too. You’ve all got until Wednesday to decide. Since we’ve got Friday off, we’ll be finalizing directors on Thursday, which is also when we’ll have our negotiation for actors and scripts and so on.”

There were some scattered questions, all of which Felix answered graciously, and then he opened up the floor for improvisation games.

“Today’s the last day we’re playing these on a volunteer basis. Staring tomorrow, I’m gonna be calling people up, so keep that in mind,” he announced.

Sam couldn’t bring himself to have any sort of opinion about that, and contented himself with watching the final volunteers have the day to themselves.

 

* * *

 

His walk to the gym was once again solitary.

He didn’t bother glancing back.

 

* * *

 

Sam was almost at his car when Felix’s voice sounded out.

“Hey.”

He paused, then continued walking towards his car.

“No, wait, c’mon.”

Sam didn’t stop, but he didn’t make any particular attempt to hurry up either, content to let Felix trail after him.

“Hey, I’m talking to you!”

“I’m aware.”

“So hold on a second!”

“Why?”

“So I can— Hey, pay attention. So I can... Y’know.”

Sam crossed his arms and stared Felix down.

“...Are you really gonna make me do this here?” Felix asked.

Sam shrugged. “I’m not making you do anything.”

“You know what I mean.”

Sam said nothing.

Felix let out the most exasperated sigh Sam had heard from him yet, then made his way to Sam’s car and patted the roof above the passenger door. “Let me in?”

Sam considered his options.

Apparently taking his inaction as a refusal, Felix added, “ _Please?”_

For all that Sam didn’t want it to, the word brought their positive interactions to the forefront of his mind, and he was unlocking his car before he knew it. He deposited his bag in the back and got into the driver’s seat, unsurprised to see Felix already settled in beside it.

Sam deliberately pocketed his keys, leaving the car off while he waited for Felix to say whatever it was he’d been attempting to.

“Look...” Felix started after a few seconds. “I get that I— I dunno, offended you or something. So, like, sorry. I guess.”

“Is this meant to resemble an apology?”

Felix stopped looking out the window to glare at Sam instead. “Hey, I don’t wanna be having this conversation with you. I wanna be focusing on the drama stuff I’ve been planning with Ms. Green. I wanna be happy about not failing history. I wanna be teasing you and asking for more study sheets. But I _can’t_ , because I’ve gotta get _this_ outta the way first. Mind cooperating?”

“No,” Sam said.

“...Is that a ‘no, I don’t mind cooperating’, or...?”

“It’s a no, period.”

Felix stared at him.

Sam stared back.

Felix grinned in an uncharacteristically lost way, and Sam began realizing that Felix had two sets of expressions: Those he used regularly, both when he was acting and when he wasn’t, and the ones he used rarely, when...

When he wasn’t acting?

.....

Was Felix always acting?

Sam was too absorbed in his developing revelation to notice Felix’s grin had faded until he spoke up, “You’re doing the thing. The creepy thing.”

Sam blinked, processed the words, and frowned, hurt and anger all set to come crashing down on him again.

Felix held up a hand in a near-universal ‘stop’ signal.

Sam stopped.

“What I _wanted_ to say,” Felix’s voice came, slow and precise, “is that I don’t mind. Yeah, it’s weird. I don’t think you’d like me staring you down that intensely either. But... I don’t mind.”

It wasn’t an apology. Not even close.

Somehow, Sam still felt a weight ease off his shoulders. Not completely, but enough to make a difference.

Felix shifted in place and looked back out the window, finishing with, “So feel free to stare at me and my... Well. Just feel free. We cool now?”

Sam thought it over. He didn’t think so. Felix’s non-apology had somewhat helped, but Sam wasn’t entirely satisfied. However, to address that dissatisfaction would require him to talk about _emotions_ and _feelings_ , and that wasn’t something he could handle just then.

The easy way out would be not to address it at all, which seemed appealing until he remembered that they still had the majority of the school year to contend with.

“I’ll think about it,” he said.

“Wh... You’ll _think_ about it!?”

“Yes. We can talk tomorrow.”

Felix spluttered and waved his hands around.

“I’d like to go home now,” Sam said, sticking his keys in the ignition. “Please leave.”

“But—”

“Felix.”

Felix crossed his arms and shut his mouth, cycling through a variety of glares.

“I’m not mad at you,” Sam explained. “But I don’t want to talk now.”

Felix’s glare turned calculating.

“Please leave,” Sam repeated, and to his surprise, Felix did exactly that.

He climbed out of the car and turned towards Sam as if to say something else, but then shut the door.

Sam immediately locked his car and prepared to drive home.

 

* * *

 

“Sami, is everything okay?”

Sam looked up at the unexpected line of questioning.

His mother had come by with a reminder that dinner would be ready soon, but then she’d stayed in his doorway and watched him. Now, she entered his room and sat on his bed, expression concerned.

“Sami?”

Instantly, everything that had been troubling him—and even some things that hadn’t—rose to the surface and he was spilling his guts out and his mother was hugging him and _nothing_ was okay, but maybe it would be.

 

* * *

 

Hours later, lying in bed and trying to fall asleep, he realized he’d forgotten to turn in his biology project.

Maybe it was for the better. He could check it over for mistakes with a clearer head— one that wasn’t in the middle of a weekend-long paper-writing session which, in hindsight, had obviously been a desperate attempt to avoid what was a completely unavoidable emotional breakdown.

 

* * *

 

The next day, Sam was no closer to having a decent discussion with Felix, but at least had the hope that he’d eventually be able to.

One thing he _was_ able to do was get things sorted out with Megan and Mason, which he attempted as soon as biology finished.

“I apologize.”

Mason looked up from gathering his things. “...I’m sorry?”

“No, I am,” Sam said. “I was abrasive and avoidant even though neither you or Megan had anything to do with what was troubling me.”

Mason watched him in confusion as they began walking towards the cafeteria. Sam felt he’d said all he needed to, and was content to wait for Mason’s response, whatever it might be.

“Um. Thanks?”

Sam hadn’t been prepared for that.

‘You’re welcome’ came to mind as a possible reply, but it didn’t seem very fitting. ‘No problem’? No, too casual.

Time to improvise.

“I’m glad my apology was sufficient.”

Mason still looked confused. “Sure, I guess,” he said. “You didn’t really need to though. We all have our off days, and yours weren’t _that_ bad.”

Sam wondered how to answer that, but then they rounded the corner and there stood Megan, expression concerned and eyes widening as soon as she she spotted them.

Sam raised a hand in greeting and she immediately hurried over.

Before she could get a word out, Sam steeled himself and again said, “I apologize. I was abrasive and avoidant even though neither you or Mason had anything to do with what was troubling me.”

She stared at him, then squinted. “Did you rehearse that?”

Confusion put a damper on Sam’s nerves. He’d only just apologized to Mason, and she hadn’t been there for that. How did she know?

“How did y—?”

“Oh, please. I know a rehearsed speech when I hear one. But good effort,” she said, tossing him a grin.

 

* * *

 

Their lunch was spent on Megan and Mason’s usual discussions.

Neither of them pressed Sam for explanations, which he was immensely grateful for.

 

* * *

 

They were headed to literature when Megan asked, “So did everything get fixed?”

“Not really.”

“Mm. Didn’t think so.”

As they neared at the classroom, she laid a hand on his shoulder and brought them to a standstill.

He looked at her curiously.

“You both seem to be doing a lot better today though,” she said with a smile. “I’m happy to see that.”

 

* * *

 

Sam spent all of drama dreading the moment Felix would call him up for an improvisation game.

It never came.

“I’ll call the rest of you up tomorrow!” Felix yelled out as the bell rang.

Sam left the room along with most of the class, but then paused.

Should he wait for Felix? He couldn’t avoid Felix, nor did he want to, but that was different from actually waiting for him. On the other hand, leaving him behind might give the wrong impression.

Sam deliberated long enough that Felix walked out of the classroom to find him standing there.

“...Ready to talk?” Felix asked, voice cool and detached.

“Not yet,” Sam said. “Later.”

Felix watched him, somehow managing to look both interested and indifferent at the same time. After a moment, he nodded, and they silently made their way to the gym.

 

* * *

 

“I’m ready to talk,” Sam declared as Felix walked past him on the way out of the gym.

“ _Fuck!”_ hissed Felix, jumping back with a hand clutching at his chest. “Don’t _do_ that.”

“I apologize if I scared you.”

Felix rolled his eyes and relaxed his stance. “Pshhh. Not scared, just surprised.”

Sam doubted that, but left the assertion unchallenged and began walking towards the parking lot, Felix trailing along beside him. Neither spoke until reaching Sam’s car, at which point he unlocked the doors, deposited his bag in the back, and sat in the front. As before, Felix had already made himself at home in the passenger seat.

Sam looked at him.

Felix glared outside and drummed his fingers on the door. Sam, for all his social failings, could plainly see that Felix was barely managing to hold his tongue. How long would he be willing to wait?

Sam could stay quiet and find out.

But that wasn’t conducive to the talk they needed to have.

Sam stifled his curiosity and said, “Your attitude on Friday was blunt and thoughtless, but I may have overreacted, and for that I apologize. Your own apology was adequate.”

Silence.

“What, that’s it?” Felix asked.

Sam thought back on what he just said. “Yes,” he reaffirmed.

Felix barked out a laugh. “ _That’s_ what you had to prepare for a whole day to say?” he asked again.

No, but Sam had a feeling the truth—that what had taken him a day was the process of sorting out his feelings well enough to put them into words—would do nothing to diminish Felix’s amusement.

He settled for glaring.

Felix laughed harder, and at some point the tone of it morphed from mockery into something else altogether, shortly before dying out completely. Felix sat back and wiped at one of his eyes as he grinned at Sam. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Sam raised an eyebrow in question, but Felix didn’t elaborate, instead asking, “We good?”

“Yes.”

“Help me with history?”

“No.”

“ _What?_ Dude! You just said we were good!”

“We are,” Sam agreed, “but if passing history is that important to you, you should read the chapters.”

“What the fuck, man. I can’t do that.”

Sam nodded. “Maybe not. Have you tried?”

“Does taking one look at twenty pages of chapter before deciding ‘fuck that’ count as trying?”

Sam let out a sigh. He disliked the idea of being Felix’s personal study tool, but didn’t want to refuse him help either. Perhaps there was a suitable middle ground.

“I’m willing to help you,” Sam said, “but not with study sheets. You need to put in some kind of effort.”

Felix gave him an incredulous look. “Memorizing your entire study sheet is a lot of work!”

Sam shook his head and clarified, “That’s only after I’ve already done all the work.”

“Well, gee, _sorry_.”

Felix resumed drumming his fingers on the door while Sam considered their options. He didn’t expect himself to come up with anything on the spur of the moment, and after a minute of thinking, it was clear he wouldn’t.

“I’ll think of something,” he finally said, starting the car. “Goodbye.”

“Wow, love ’em and leave ’em, I see how it is,” Felix muttered, but helpfully climbed out of the car. “Hey. Sammy?”

Sam looked at him.

“Hope you’re ready to improvise tomorrow.”

 

* * *

 

Driving home, doing his homework, eating dinner— all of it was plagued by the question of how to help Felix pass history.

Sam was no closer to an answer when he went to bed.

 

* * *

 

He woke up with two words on his mind.

_Study sessions_.

 

* * *

 

The morning was noticeably colder than usual, prompting Sam to arrive at school in a jacket. From what he could tell, several people seemed to have had the same impulse he did, but several others hadn’t.

Felix walked into the warm history classroom and proceeded to do a full-body shiver.

Sam smiled to himself.

 

* * *

 

“Alright, next game! Let’s do the two-line one, with...” Felix paused, likely to build up anticipation, then announced, “Megan and Mason, plus Sam as our newbie for this round.”

Sam supposed he should be thankful. Felix was purposely making him perform with two people he’d begun to fully consider friends, which undoubtedly eased his nerves.

On the other hand, Sam still didn’t know the first thing about improvisation, and was at last forced to admit that his theory had been extraordinarily wrong: The games definitely weren’t scripted.

He walked to the front of the room and joined Megan and Mason, both of whom offered him smiles.

Felix cleared his throat and said, “We all remember this game, right? They act out a scene, but only one of them—that’s gonna be you, Megan—can talk normally. Sam and Mason, you two are each gonna get two sentences to use throughout the scene. No saying anything else, but feel free to say those two sentences whenever and however much you want. Got all that?”

Sam gulped.

“Fantastic, then let’s get some suggestions thrown out!”

 

* * *

 

The scenario was Sam and Megan dining at a bad restaurant, with Mason as their waiter.

Mason’s two sentences were ‘great’ and ‘are you kidding me?’

Sam’s two sentences were ‘I hate this’ and ‘what is it?’

Megan did a remarkable job of establishing the scene while Sam and Mason worked within the limitations of their vocabulary.

On a particularly memorable occasion, the two of them managed to use all four of their lines one after the other: Sam gestured at the imaginary dinner, declaring his hatred for it, which prompted Mason’s offended questioning of his judgment. Sam replied by throwing the dinner’s entire contents into doubt, a move Mason refuted by way of his complete and utter failure to disclose anything about the dinner aside from the fact that it was ‘great’.

Things eventually escalated to Megan standing up and dragging a hate-filled Sam away from the restaurant, her announcement of their departure met only by a passive-aggressive ‘great’ from Mason.

The end of their scene was met with no small amount of applause, and Sam delightedly returned to his seat.

 

* * *

 

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Felix asked him on the way to gym.

“No,” Sam agreed, still pleased that not only had he enjoyed himself, but apparently his audience had too.

“Hope you’re ready to keep doing it then,” Felix said. “Sure, next week you’ll all get scripts and do a table read, but you know how we are about improv games.”

Sam nodded and completely changed the subject with, “I had an idea for how to help you.”

Felix looked at him curiously.

“Study sessions,” Sam said.

A pause, then Felix laughed. “What, is that your idea of making me put in some effort?”

“Yes.”

Felix laughed again.

Sam said nothing.

Felix’s laughter died off. “Oh, holy shit, you’re serious,” he observed.

“Yes,” Sam repeated.

“Well, as terrible an idea as it is, I’d be willing to try it. Thing is, study sessions mean meetups, so unless you’re fixing to invite me over...” Felix trailed off with a shrug.

Sam thought it over.

He knew the basic rules of life: Don’t let strangers into your house, much less invite them there in the first place. But Felix wasn’t a stranger, was he?

“I’ll see what I can do,” Sam said, causing Felix to whip his head around to stare at him.

“Huh,” Felix breathed. “Fine. You invite me over, I’m in.”

 

* * *

 

“I talked with Ms. Green yesterday,” Megan whispered in excitement. “I said I wanted to direct and she said she’d add me to the list!”

Sam wondered if she’d pick him as one of her actors just because they were friends. “I’m sure you’ll do well,” he offered.

“Oh, you bet I will,” she said with a grin.

Mason turned to look at Felix’s table and asked, “Do you know who else wanted to direct?”

Megan shook her head. “We all know Felix will, but besides him, everyone’s just made jokes about it,” she said. “Nobody’s even talked about what actors they’d pick, so I guess that’s gonna take up a good chunk of today’s negotiations.”

“Pick me?” Mason asked.

“Hmm... I’ll think about it,” Megan said with a smile.

 

* * *

 

“Good news, directors,” Felix announced. “Every single one of you that was interested in directing got the job!”

Applause began, scattered at first, then throughout the room. Given that all the third-years were clapping, there was no way to tell which of them had newly become directors, aside from Megan, and that was only because Sam had already known.

“Yes, yes, we’re all very happy for you,” Felix said, raising his voice over the applause and leaving no doubt that he wanted it to stop.

It stopped.

Felix waved a hand towards Ms. Green. “It’s Ms. Green’s turn to run improv duty today, since I’m gonna be out in the hall, meeting with the other directors. We’ll be selecting what actors and scripts we want.” He pointed at a small pile of papers on Ms. Green’s desk and said, “Those are the scripts. There should be enough variety that you’re bound to find one you like, with whatever number of actors you get.”

“Now,” he gestured broadly, “I ask all directors to start coming outside so we can get this meeting started. Clock’s ticking! I’ll bring the scripts, and everyone else, enjoy your last moments of freedom.”

 

* * *

 

With mere minutes of class left, Felix and the other directors returned to the room.

“And we’re back!” Felix called as he made his way to the front. “Everything’s been decided. All of you have been chosen by your directors, and all of those directors have scripts for you. The bad news is you’re not gonna find out any of those specifics until next week, mostly because we need to make enough copies of those scripts, but also because I like the suspense. Enjoy your weekend!”

 

* * *

 

“Gonna invite me over then, Sammy?”

“I don’t know,” Sam said, only half of his mind on the topic at hand. The other half was wondering whether asking Felix how the directors’ meeting had gone would yield any worthwhile results.

“Mhmm,” Felix hummed.

The pause lasted longer than Sam expected it to, but Felix broke it soon enough.

“You’re just dying to ask about the meeting, aren’t you? Come on, don’t lie.”

Sam gave a vague shrug.

Felix scoffed. “Yeah, right. You don’t have to pretend, I can tell. But too bad, I’m not spoiling any surprises.”

So it was as Sam had thought. That was alright, he could wait until next week.

“They _are_ some pretty great surprises though,” Felix added.

Sam said nothing.

“Don’t think for a second I’m not dying to spill the beans either.”

“.....”

“But I am _not_ talking!”

“.....”

“Seriously, not a single—”

“ _Felix_.”

 

* * *

 

The weekend passed and Sam wondered.

He had his suspicions.


	12. Season 1, Episode 11

“Megan said I’m in her group,” Mason informed Sam, “plus a couple other things, but I think she’s saving the rest to tell us at lunch today.”

“Today? It’s Monday,” Sam pointed out.

Mason rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “We don’t _always_ have to go by that. Besides, I think this is special enough to be an exception to the rule.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey, tell Sam about everyone’s reactions to you directing.”

“Ha, it was great,” Megan laughed. “The second I walked outside I got a ‘wait, you’re directing?’ They _really_ wanted to snag me for themselves.”

Sam ate his lunch, amused by her recount of the way the directors’ meeting had played out.

“Oh, that reminds me: Sam, you were in high demand too.”

Sam froze mid-bite. He blinked. Chewed, swallowed. Cleared his throat.

“What,” he said.

“Yeah, you’re in Felix’s group, and no way anyone else was getting you. The second we were all outside he just...” Megan sat up straight, raising one finger in a self-important gesture, as if waiting for everyone’s undivided attention before declaring, “‘Sam’s mine.’”

“Not really a surprise,” Mason said.

Sam looked over at him.

“He’s, well... He kind of talks about you a lot.”

Sam looked over at Megan.

She solemnly nodded.

Sam turned to look at Felix’s lunch table.

It was impossible to make out anything he was saying, but going by the way he was waving his hands around and the rest of the table’s laughter, his domination of the lunchtime conversation was as riveting as ever.

“You gossip about me?” Sam asked.

Mason gave him an apologetic grimace but Megan spoke up with her own take.

“Not exactly,” she said. “Maybe. Depends. What do you consider gossip? We talk about everyone in drama, but that’s normal, isn’t it?”

Sam put his sandwich down. “What do you say?”

Megan shrugged. “Last week it was about everyone’s acting range. We were already thinking about who would be good for certain scenes, even if we weren’t talking about it like we wanted to direct. Of course, we didn’t know what the script choices would be, but we still had a general idea. Felix did say there was gonna be a little of everything, after all.”

Her explanation sounded reasonable. Sam watched as she turned her attention to her food, then he glanced back at Mason.

Mason was studiously looking away.

“You said ‘a lot’. He talks about me ‘a lot’,” Sam repeated.

Mason’s eyes darted to his, then away again.

Megan shook her head and let out a chuckle. “Can’t get anything past you, huh?” she asked.

Sam would disagree, but now wasn’t the time for that.

“Go on, Mason,” Megan grinned. “Tell Sam what Felix told you this morning.”

“Uh, I don’t think—”

“ _Tell him_ ,” she insisted, lightly poking Mason in the shoulder.

He shifted in his seat and refused to meet either of their eyes.

Apparently growing impatient, Megan stopped poking him and leaned across the table towards Sam. Cupping a hand around her mouth, she loudly whispered, “ _He thinks your dick is big_.”

Sam was glad he’d stopped eating a while ago.

“ _Meg_ ,” whined Mason.

“What? He should know,” she replied, then turned back to Sam and lowered her voice again. “I believe the exact word he used was, ahem, ‘ _stallion’_.”

Sam stared at her.

She stared back.

Sam looked at Mason.

Mason looked away.

“...And he said this to you _why?_ ”

Mason slumped in his seat, crossing his arms. “We were just talking, you know? The teacher said to work with the person next to us and our seats are right beside each other. We had to write a thing explaining why horses show up so much in literature, and then he started making jokes, and...” he trailed off, shrugging with his entire body.

Sam scowled and turned to look at Felix’s table again. Just as before, he was emphatically clawing his hands in the air and saying something while the people sitting around him laughed.

“Hey,” Megan’s voice drew his attention back. “I know I wouldn’t exactly appreciate him saying something like that about me, but other than that, you’re cool with it, right? Like, it doesn’t matter that you’re both guys?”

“It matters that it’s _Felix_.”

Her lips thinned out, sympathetic to his plight. “For what it’s worth,” she said, “I’m pretty sure he only told Mace because he knew he’d tell me, and then I’d tell you. It’s kind of cute, in that awful way of his.”

Sam raised an eyebrow.

“Right, you’ve never seen how Felix gets when he’s obsessing over someone, have you? I think it’s happened maybe”—she counted off on her fingers—“twice? At least that I’ve seen, probably more than that.”

The bell rang before she could elaborate.

“I’ll tell you all about it some other time,” she said, gathering her things and standing from the table. “But trust me, this is his classiest attempt yet.”

For all that Sam would rather stay seated and begin a round of intensive questioning, he mirrored her actions and they made their way to literature.

He could always ask Felix himself.

 

* * *

 

The classroom filled with anticipation as the bell rang and Felix stood up.

He walked to the front of the room and cleared his throat. “As you all know, last week the directors had a little meeting. We chose our actors, our scripts, and the order we’d all perform in. Today, we officially start working on our ‘play’,” he said, fingers imitating quotation marks.

“Everyone’s scripts are on Ms. Green’s desk,” he went on. “Directors, go get yours and hand them out. I want the rest of class spent on cold reads. Actors, listen to what your directors tell you, and directors, make sure your actors are ready to do a table read tomorrow.”

 

* * *

 

The next few minutes were spent in a bustle of activity, with directors alternating between calling their actors over or personally approaching them.

For his part, Felix solemnly picked up his scripts, wordlessly made his way to a newbie’s desk, and handed her one. Then he turned to Sam and did the same.

The newbie looked entirely starstruck, but Felix wasn’t watching her reaction, instead focusing his triumphant gaze on Sam.

Sam flipped through the few pages of script and asked, “Should we stay at our desks or go somewhere else?”

Felix’s mouth fell open. When Sam said nothing more, Felix’s eyebrows quirked in frustration.

“What, just like that?” he asked. “Did you know already? Who told you?”

Sam had a feeling leaving Megan unmentioned would be in everyone’s best interest. “I had my suspicions,” he offered.

Felix narrowed his eyes.

Sam stayed silent.

“Megan!” Felix called over his shoulder.

“What?” she called back.

“Mind not spoiling casting?”

“Sorry,” she said, turning back to her group. “It just came up!”

Felix gritted his teeth.

The newbie girl he’d chosen watched the entire exchange with wide eyes.

“You’ve got a shit poker face, Sam,” Felix muttered. “But let’s get started.”

 

* * *

 

Ms. Green allowed the three of them to practice in the hallway, so long as they kept their voices down. Sam hadn’t thought it was a realistic demand to make of Felix, but he managed it surprisingly well.

They sat outside and read through the script. It was a scene between an older couple who’d begun to fall apart after the death of their son. Grim, tense, and above all, sad.

Sam wondered why Felix had chosen it, and his question was answered shortly thereafter.

“Remember how you two said your dream roles were Romeo and Juliet?” Felix asked.

Oh. _That_.

Felix paid Sam’s grimace no mind and went on, “That’s all well and good, but to get there, you’ve gotta expand your range. I know, I know. ‘How will playing the polar opposite of what I wanna do help?’ Trust me, it helps.”

Sam wondered if Felix knew the Romeo admission had simply come from the lack of having any better answer.

Then again, he wouldn’t put it past Felix to have been fully aware of that from the start and run with it anyway.

 

* * *

 

By the time the hour was almost up, Sam and the the newbie girl had read through the script twice more, and received various tips and suggestions.

As they returned inside, Felix headed to the front of the room and reminded everyone to read their scripts for homework, so that they’d be prepared to read aloud tomorrow.

And then it was just him and Sam, walking to the gym together like always.

“Hopefully everyone’s off book before the end of next week, but there’s always stragglers, especially when it comes to newbies. You wouldn’t do that to me though, right, Sammy?”

“You’ve gossiped about me,” Sam said, completely avoiding the question.

Felix blinked once, twice, then shrugged. “Well, sure. You don’t get into drama without keeping track of people. Maybe _you_ don’t talk about it, but most of us do.”

‘Keeping track of people’ didn’t particularly sound like gossiping, much less speculating on their anatomical endowments.

“What?” Felix asked. “You’re being all broody again.”

“It’s nothing,” Sam said.

There were only so many ways to ask what he wanted to, and he’d just realized that none of those ways spared him the awkwardness of actually asking.

 

* * *

 

“Is it alright if I invite someone here?”

Sam’s mother looked up from the groceries she was sorting out. “Not right _now?”_

He shook his head.

“Then sure! A friend?”

Sam hesitated. He’d only recently grown accustomed to calling Megan and Mason friends; he didn’t think he could manage calling Felix anything but a nuisance.

A nuisance that Sam had come to occasionally enjoy the company of, but a nuisance nonetheless.

“A classmate,” he finally said.

His mother paused in her sorting and assessed him. “Who?”

“...His name is Felix. He needs help to study.”

“Felix?” his mother asked. “Is he the one who made you cry the other day?”

Sam bristled. “No one _made_ me cry. I was very stressed.”

“But is he the same one?”

Sam crossed his arms. He doubted he could get away with outright lying, nor did he want to. However, the chances that his mother would approve of Felix in any capacity would become heavily skewed the second he confirmed her suspicions.

“He apologized.”

“Oh, yeah?” she asked, tone clearly broadcasting her disdain. “What did he say?”

Sam frowned. What _did_ Felix say? As an apology, it had been lacking, but...

“That he didn’t have any problem with me and hadn’t wanted to offend me.”

His mother raised an eyebrow and hummed. “Ah, yes, that. You already told me. While you were crying.”

“That’s how stress works,” he pointed out.

“You say he needs help to study, but why should you be the one who helps him?”

“He asked me.”

“And you want to help him? You really want to?”

Sam thought about it. His gut twisted, though he wasn’t sure why. Helping Felix study wasn’t exactly high on his list of priorities, but he wasn’t averse to the idea either. It _was_ his, after all.

Ultimately, having Felix in his house intrigued him, so he confirmed, “Yes.”

His mother’s calculating look held steady, but then she sighed. “Look, Sami. If you’re sure the guy’s decent, I won’t say no. I only need to know that he’s not pressuring you.”

Felix? Decent? Debatable.

Felix pressuring him? Definitely debatable.

But even so, Sam wanted to go through with their study session and said as much.

Some brief negotiating later, his mother agreed to have Felix visit next week. “There's no school that Friday, no? Because of the sports thing?”

There was indeed no school that Friday because of the sports thing.

She agreed to have Felix come over next Friday.

 

* * *

 

The history teacher passed out the usual worksheet, and Felix materialized in the empty seat beside Sam nearly instantly.

They spent the following hour filling their worksheets out, with Sam making sure that the work was evenly split between them, much to Felix’s chagrin.

 

* * *

 

Drama came and went, with everyone reading through their scripts aloud, one director’s scene after another. The reading lasted most of the hour, with directors fervently taking notes when it was their group’s turn.

Felix gave some final words of encouragement just as the bell rang, sending everyone scurrying to their next classes.

“That wasn’t half bad,” Felix said, gathering his things and glancing at Sam. “Don’t you think?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Sam replied.

With a parting wave to Ms. Green, Felix walked out the door and Sam followed.

“Well, we managed to finish before the bell rang, so that’s something. One time, it took us two whole days to read through a play that was barely an hour,” Felix elaborated.

Sam listened as Felix continued airing his grievances of drama classes past, only speaking up when they were nearly at the gym. “You can come over to study,” he said.

Felix seemed surprised, but then grinned. “Yeah? When?”

“Next Friday.”

“Great,” Felix said. “I’ll be there.”

 

* * *

 

“Wait, dude, no!”

Sam paused in the middle of his warm-ups to give Felix a questioning look.

“Next Friday,” Felix said. “We have a test _this_ Friday! That worksheet wasn’t enough, and studying _next_ Friday won’t help!”

“You’re right,” Sam said, resuming his stretches.

“So?”

Yes, so.

So Sam didn’t know.

He didn’t want to provide Felix with another study sheet, but didn’t want him failing either.

“I’ll think of something,” he said.

 

* * *

 

By the time the bell rang and everyone was heading for the parking lot, he’d thought of something.

“Read the chapter,” he told Felix, and continued before he could interrupt. “Take notes and bring them tomorrow. For every note you’ve taken, I’ll either elaborate on it or provide you with another that you’re missing.”

Felix pouted, but grudgingly agreed to the terms.

It wasn’t like he had much of a choice anyway.

 

* * *

 

“Here,” Felix said, handing Sam a single page of badly scrawled notes.

Sam looked it over. Most of the notes were far too broad to be of any use, such as ‘ _there were protests and someone died so they made a law about it’_ and ‘ _a lot of people were poor but then there were jobs and people weren’t as poor’_.

“These could be about anything,” Sam said.

“Yeah, but I got the gist of it down,” Felix replied. “Isn’t that the important part? Besides, they’re specifically about the chapter. I know it and you know it, and that’s what matters.”

Sam sighed. “Fine.”

 

* * *

 

The biology teacher reminded them that report cards would be given out at the end of the week, and advised them all to get started on their projects.

Sam resolved to spend the weekend reading back over his research paper and correcting any mistakes he might find.

 

* * *

 

He pored over Felix’s notes during lunch, adding onto the points likely to be on the test.

Then, because Felix had jotted down so few, he added on a couple more at the end.

 

* * *

 

After drama, he gave Felix the new and improved notes.

“Thanks,” Felix said, eyes scanning over the added material. “And this is everything I’ll need for the test?”

“No, there’s much more. You missed an entire section, not to mention the details you glossed over.”

“What!? Did you write it all down at least?”

“No.”

“ _Sam!”_

“You should take better notes,” Sam said. “I worked with what you provided, and I even added some things you didn’t. It should be enough for you to pass, provided you remember it all.”

Felix glared and gnashed his teeth, but slipped the page into one of his notebooks all the same.

 

* * *

 

Thursday passed without much incident, aside from Felix’s intermittent complaints about history.

“Sammy, I better pass, or I swear—”

“That you’ll study harder?”

“Fuck off.”

 

* * *

 

After history, Felix pulled Sam aside.

“So that sucked,” he said. “But I think I got enough right that I should be fine. Probably.”

“That’s good,” Sam said.

Felix rolled his eyes. “Yeah, no thanks to you. Next Friday better be an all-day study session, or I want my money back.”

“You haven’t paid me.”

“It’s an expression.”

“But you could,” Sam added. “People usually pay their tutors, don’t they?”

Felix stared at him.

Sam stared back.

“Shut up,” Felix muttered and left for his next class.

 

* * *

 

“Great work, everyone,” Felix announced at the end of drama. “We’ll be doing more of this next week, and we’ll start blocking everything out the week after that. Memorize your lines over the weekend! I want you all off book as soon as possible.”

Sam looked down at his script.

Memorizing a couple pages’ worth of lines? Easy.

 

* * *

 

Like when they’d been given their interim reports, they were made to stay in the gym and wait for their names to be called, contrary to the usual routine of going outside and playing sports.

It was just as well. The days had steadily gotten colder, and the heat generated by physical exertion was becoming less and less sufficient.

“Where do you live anyway?” Felix asked, taking a seat beside Sam.

“On the edge of town,” he said. “The north side.”

“That tells me absolutely nothing,” Felix laughed, making himself comfortable. “What’s the closest thing to you, school or the post office?”

Sam thought about it. “They’re equally close, depending on the road taken.”

“You’re gonna have to get me better directions than that,” Felix said.

“We aren’t meeting until next Friday.”

“Sure, but I’d still like to have an idea of where I’m gonna be going.”

Sam was spared from answering by the teacher’s call of “Gates!”

Less than a minute later, Felix was abandoning his newly acquired report card in favor of giving Sam his best puppy eyes—which, unfortunately for him, weren’t that good—and starting up a chorus of pleas.

“I already agreed to help,” Sam reminded him.

“I _know_. But, like, you’ve gotta _make sure_ I pass. Sammy, _please_. I can’t fail another test if I want a chance at graduating.”

“That’s up to you,” Sam said. “I can point out what you need, but it’s your job to actually remember it.”

“I can do that,” Felix said, then abruptly replaced his puppy eyes with a smirk. “I didn’t get through three years of drama with a shitty memory, did I?”

 

* * *

 

Sam’s report card was much like his interim report, if not slightly better. Again, his lowest grade was in algebra, but not by much. Drama was a near perfect grade, and it had him wondering what grading system Ms. Green was using.

Effort-based, surely.

He showed his parents the report card and they were extremely pleased. In turn, so was he.

“That guy’s right in wanting your help to study,” his mother remarked.

Sam offered a noncommittal hum.

It was comments like those that reminded him of Megan’s words.

‘ _Right, you’ve never seen how Felix gets when he’s obsessing over someone, have you?’_


	13. Season 1, Episode 12

“Well, I passed,” Felix said, voice sullen. “Barely.”

“You passed. Quit complaining.”

Felix scowled. “I better be passing with flying colors after our study session, Sammy!”

“You will if you put in the effort. By the way, here,” Sam said, handing Felix a scrap of paper. At his questioning look, Sam explained, “My address. So you know where to go on Friday.”

“Oh, thanks. And this?”

“The time you should arrive at.”

“Alright, that works. Wait...” Felix trailed off and squinted. “Are your parents gonna be home?”

“Yes.”

Felix’s eyebrows went up in a strange mixture of surprise and resignation. “That’s gonna be fun,” he said.

 

* * *

 

Drama saw them all read through their scripts again.

Sam had memorized his lines over the weekend, but continued reading from the page so as not to draw any unnecessary attention.

Julie—his newbie scene partner whose name he’d also finally memorized—had begun reading her lines with more ease. There were even some that she consistently delivered a certain way, focusing less on reading them in favor of acting them.

Felix seemed to approve of her performance.

Sam wondered if Felix would be just as approving of the fact that he was off book.

 

* * *

 

Lunch consisted solely of Megan and Mason's conversation, which Sam paid as much attention to as he could.

In other words, not much at all.

He had better things to concern himself with.

Felix's upcoming visit, to be precise.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the admittedly short week passed in a blur, the days filled with the same routines as always. By the time the final bell rang on Thursday, Sam’s gut was a mess of near-constant jitters.

The last time he’d personally invited someone over to his house, free of happenstance or his parents’ involvement, was over a decade ago. He’d been playing outside with the boy who lived next door and had decided he enjoyed the company enough to invite him over.

The answer he’d received was “no, thanks” followed by the boy’s departure.

He never said his last invitation had been _successful_.

 

* * *

 

“Where are you two gonna study, your room?”

Sam nodded.

“For how long?” his father asked.

Sam gave the barest hint of a shrug. “We never decided. As long as we keep learning the material, I imagine.”

“Well, he can’t stay all day, no? His family will worry. Also,” Sam’s father pointed out, “neither your mom or I know him. So let him come and we’ll see how it goes. If everything turns out fine, you can invite him again.”

“Alright,” Sam said. “How long can he stay?”

“A couple hours seems good to me.”

“How many?”

His father sighed. “Let’s ask your mother when she comes home.”

 

* * *

 

“You can stay for five hours.”

Felix paused halfway out of his car. “That’s one way to greet someone,” he commented.

“I thought you should know as soon as possible. That way, no time gets wasted.”

“Well, sure, but that’s assuming we’re gonna be studying nonstop.”

“Aren’t we?” Sam asked.

The grin that spread across Felix’s face was sudden and uneven. “Sammy,” he laughed, “are you telling me you do all your studying in marathons?”

“Not necessarily,” Sam said, stepping back towards the house with Felix at his side. “But this _is_ a study session.”

“Yeah, but you can’t honestly expect me to focus on history for five hours with no breaks!”

“We’ll see,” Sam said, and they entered the house.

His parents’ heads snapped towards them.

“Hi,” Felix said with a wave.

They both answered in kind, and then Sam’s mother stood from the couch.

“You’re Felix, yes?”

“That’s right, Mrs. Ortez,” Felix said as he offered her a hand and his most charming smile. “Pleased to meet you.”

After the briefest hesitation, she took it and gave it a firm shake. “Pleased to meet you too.”

Felix turned his attention to Sam’s father, who’d also risen from the couch. Again, Felix extended his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Ortez.”

“The pleasure’s all mine,” Sam’s father said as he shook it.

Sam glanced at his mother.

She raised an eyebrow at him but said nothing.

“So you’re going to go study now?” his father asked.

Felix turned to Sam. “Are we?”

“Yes. Follow me.”

Sam could feel his parents’ eyes on their retreating backs until they reached the door to his room. He stepped in and flicked on the light, then turned to watch Felix enter.

“ _Oh. My. God,”_ he breathed, eyes raking over every inch of Sam’s room. “This is seriously your room?”

Sam tilted his head. “Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Sammy,” Felix said, just a touch of desperation in his voice, “what _is_ this?” He swept his fingers over the edge of one of Sam’s posters.

“ _Sailor Moon_ ,” Sam said.

“I know that, Sammy,” Felix murmured, shaking his head. “It says it in huge fucking letters right there.”

Sam nodded.

Felix turned away from the poster to look across Sam’s room at the shelves, figures, and everything else on display. He silently shook his head and took a deep breath, let it out, then took another. “Okay,” he finally said, running a hand down his face. “Okay.”

 

* * *

 

They had just sat down—Sam at his desk and Felix on his bed—when there was a knock at the door.

“Yes?” Sam asked.

“I thought maybe you and Felix would get hungry,” his mother’s voice came. “I put some snacks out, just in case.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Ortez!” Felix piped up.

“No problem!” she answered.

Sam gave Felix a curious look.

Felix watched the door, as if he could see whether Sam’s mother was still on the other side or not, then lowered his voice and said, “C’mon, it’s obvious she’s keeping tabs on us. Wants to know what I’m up to. I’ll be honest, I can’t imagine what you’ve been telling her about me.”

“Only the truth,” Sam said, surprised by Felix’s assessment of the situation. Though Sam didn’t know if he would put it in such vigilant terms himself, he couldn’t deny being impressed at how quickly Felix had caught on to what was happening.

Well, it stood to reason that he wouldn’t be a good actor if he didn’t know how to read people.

“Whataya’ say, Sammy? Wanna come get snacks with me? I don’t think I can convince your parents you’re alive and well on my own.”

“Fine,” Sam said, standing from his desk.

He strode out of the room and Felix followed suit.

Sam’s parents were on the couch again. “The snacks are in the kitchen,” his mother informed them, pointing in its general direction.

“Thank you,” Sam said, already heading towards it.

Sure enough, the counter was currently home to a couple of juice boxes, cracker packets, and discounted post-Halloween candy.

“Whoa, dude. _Nice_ ,” Felix said, instantly reaching for the candy.

“You like sweets?” Sam asked as he grabbed the juice boxes and some crackers.

Felix grinned, already unwrapping one and sticking it in his mouth. “Like ’em? _Love_ ’em,” he quipped, gathering several more into his hands.

Sam filed that away in some dark corner of his mind reserved for trivial information he was unlikely to ever use.

They made their way back, snacks in tow. Sam’s parents gave them smiles of acknowledgment as they walked past, and soon they’d returned to his room, setting the snacks down on the desk— in Felix’s case, on the bed.

“Man, your mom does _not_ like me. What the hell did you say to her?”

“What makes you think that?”

“Uh, everything? I know a fake smile when I see one,” Felix said. “See, your dad’s is neutral. He doesn’t know me but he’s being polite. Your mom’s being polite too, but she’s got a bone to pick.”

Sam hummed in consideration.

“So? What did you tell her?”

Sam hesitated. “It doesn’t matter, we should study,” he said.

“I have a right to know,” Felix insisted.

The words struck a nerve. “A right to know what?”

“What people say about me!”

Sam pursed his lips. The temptation to ask for clarification on Megan’s gossip was strong, but he wasn’t certain he could bring himself to discuss Felix’s penis predictions while his parents were just a room away.

“Maybe another time,” he said. “Let’s study.”

 

* * *

 

Felix lasted an hour.

One hour of listening to Sam read excerpts from the chapter, of reading excerpts himself, of scribbling down the details he was suggested to.

“I’m _bored_ ,” he whined, flopping backwards onto the bed.

Sam continued to focus on his textbook. “If studying was fun, no one would fail.”

Felix writhed in place, emitting frustrated growls.

“Now, the next section—”

“ _Noooo_...”

Sam huffed. “This is a study session,” he reminded. “We now have less than five hours to make sure you pass next week’s history test. That _is_ what you wanted, right?”

For a long while, Felix said nothing, remaining still on Sam’s bed and apparently staring at the ceiling. Sam was about to get up to check on him when he spoke.

“Seriously. Why are you in drama?” Felix asked. “It’s _so_ not your thing.”

The question caught Sam off guard and he answered, “People seem to think otherwise.”

Felix gave a soft chuckle, still motionless on the bed. “I didn’t say you were bad. You’re— Well, you’re not good either.”

Sam frowned.

“...You’re just weird,” Felix concluded. “There’s some things you do really well, and some you’re total garbage at. What’s that about? I’ve never seen someone be a master of their one-dimensional acting craft. Actually, no, I have, but that’s not the point. What’s your deal?”

It sounded like Felix was trying to have some sort of serious talk. Aside from their time limit, Sam had no real objections to having such a talk, but the fact that Felix was currently sprawled out on his bed and addressing the ceiling made for a strange discussion setting.

Even so, Sam supposed they could use a study break.

He leaned as far back as his desk chair allowed and tried to match Felix’s literal and figurative laid-back mood. “My parents suggested I sign up for it,” he said.

Felix’s head snapped up. “For real?”

Sam nodded. “For real.”

A bark of laughter escaped Felix and his head flopped back down onto the bed.

Neither of them spoke for some time, both watching the ceiling.

As usual, Felix broke the silence, remarking, “Yeah, I can see that. Get you out of your shell and all.”

Sam hummed his assent.

“Has it worked?”

Sam had wondered that himself. In some ways, he doubted drama had given him anything but new and exciting things to stress over. In other ways, he had to admit that he was finding it easier and easier to have an entire class’s attention on him.

It was still terrible.

But easier.

He sighed. “I suppose so. It can’t have made me any worse.”

“Nah, you’ve gotten better,” Felix said, twisting and turning until he was lounging on his front, head propped up in his hands and feet swinging in the air behind him.

Sam frowned at the display of familiarity. He’d had little experience of others in his room, so he could be wrong, but he didn’t think people were usually that quick to drape themselves across a stranger’s bed.

Again, he could be wrong. Maybe he was out of touch.

Felix rolled over onto his back, head hanging off the side of the bed and staring at Sam intently. “You should’ve seen yourself that first week, dude. You were a fucking mess. ‘Romeo’? I’d have been embarrassed if I still knew what shame was.”

There was a lot to unpack there.

“You knew?” Sam chose.

“What, that Romeo was just the first thing that popped in your head?” Felix asked. “Pshhh, of course. It was pretty obvious. Hey, pass me a juice box.”

Sam floundered, defaulting to the clear instruction first and foremost. He handed Felix the juice, then growled out, “You _knew_ and you insisted on repeating it every chance you had?”

Felix managed to shrug while upside down and flat on his back. “Would you really expect me not to?” he asked, jabbing the juice box with its straw. “Giving me that kind of bait and not letting me use it, that’s just cruel.”

Sam glared but Felix gave no indication of being affected, instead proceeding to somehow remain in position while successfully drinking from the juice box, all without making a mess.

“Break time’s over,” Sam grumbled, turning back to his still open textbook. “Now pay attention.”

 

* * *

 

They had about an hour and a half left when Felix began his theatrics again.

“Sam, I’m _bored_. Break time.”

“No.”

“Yes. How’s your breathing been? Kept doing it right?”

Sam turned away from his textbook in defeat. “I have,” he said.

“Yeah?” Felix asked. “Show me.”

“...What?”

Felix scooted aside and patted the newly vacant spot on the bed. “C’mon, get over here.”

A pause.

Then, for lack of anything better to do, Sam left his chair and took Felix’s offered spot. Immediately, Felix’s hands were on him, one on his chest and one on his stomach.

“Breathe,” Felix instructed.

It took Sam a second too long, but he eventually drew in a breath and released it, then drew in another and another, all while Felix nodded approvingly.

“Color me surprised,” Felix murmured. “You really do have the hang of it.”

“I told you,” Sam said.

Felix rolled his eyes, but it only carried a fraction of his usual haughtiness. “What kind of teacher would I be if I didn’t make sure?” he asked, hands ever so slightly pushing Sam, as if for emphasis.

Sam said nothing.

What could he say? The situation had him confused enough on its own, but Megan’s words tumbled around in his head and exacerbated that confusion. Sam didn’t mean to flatter himself, but he couldn’t help feeling as if maybe, just maybe, Felix was objectifying him.

Then again, perhaps it wasn’t a matter of flattery at all. There were no absolutes when it came to objectification. Sometimes it was a product of feeling positively about someone, excessively so. Other times it came from a place of dislike, of wanting to reduce someone to a caricature of themselves.

He watched Felix’s vacant expression.

Well, maybe not so vacant.

Felix’s eyes were clearly pinpointed on where his hands lay on Sam.

Sam frowned. He was well aware of Felix’s penchant for messing with people, himself included, and he’d be tempted to dismiss everything as simply an elaborate attempt to get under his skin. However, at that exact moment, the explanation rang hollow.

He cleared his throat and Felix yanked his hands back. In the blink of an eye, he was sporting one of his usual smirks, and Sam once again wondered how he’d gotten so good at acting.

“We only have an hour left,” Sam said.

Felix nodded. “Then let’s get to it.”

 

* * *

 

Once their time was up, Felix graciously bid his farewells, hopped in his car, and drove off.

“I found him friendly,” Sam’s father commented.

Sam said nothing.

His mother hummed. “Yes, friendly. But I don’t know, there’s something he has...”

“He apologized,” Sam said again.

“No, not that,” his mother said. “Something different.”

Sam gave her a look and she shrugged.

“But did you at least have fun?” his father asked.

“Yes,” Sam said, for lack of a better answer.

His father looked towards his mother.

She sighed and said, “Sami, the important thing is that you’re happy. As long as he behaves well and you’re having fun, you can invite him over again. Just ask us first, okay?”

Sam nodded.


	14. Season 1, Episode 13

It was strange seeing Felix in history after the long weekend Sam spent dwelling on his general existence.

He winked at Sam from across the room. Sam squinted back at him.

What exactly Felix had been up to all this time, Sam didn’t know, but he resolved to find out.

 

* * *

 

“Has Felix continued gossiping about me?”

Mason seemed surprised by the question. “Gossip? Like what?”

“Whatever he usually gossips about,” Sam said.

Mason looked none too pleased about being made to recall Felix’s busybody transgressions, but appeared to give Sam’s question the consideration it deserved.

Sam silently watched him, hoping for an answer before they reached the cafeteria.

“I can’t think of anything,” Mason said. “Oh, he did mention you were gonna help him with history. How’d it go?”

“Acceptably. He seems to be under the impression that my mother dislikes him.”

Mason’s eyebrows went up. “ _That_ , I’ve gotta hear. Tomorrow?”

Sam nodded as they reached the cafeteria and parted ways.

He sat down and realized he’d ended up giving information to Mason, which was the exact opposite of what he’d set out to do.

Still, he couldn’t bring himself to feel anything beyond mild annoyance.

 

* * *

 

Lunch finished, and Sam made it a point to wait for Megan’s departure. He caught up to her once the other theatre kids, including Felix, went off to their other classes.

“Oh, hi!” she greeted him with a smile.

“Hi,” he replied, then cut straight to the chase. “What did you mean about Felix obsessing over people?”

She nodded. “Ah, that. I was wondering when you’d ask.”

“When I’d...?” No, that was beside the point. “Tell me about Felix’s obsessions.”

“We don’t have nearly enough time for those now,” she said. Rightly so, since their literature class was in view. “Tell you tomorrow?”

Sam nodded.

 

* * *

 

“Scripts away,” were the first words out of Felix’s mouth when the bell rang.

There was an air of panic surrounding the newbies and even a few of the second-years.

“Ah-ah-ah,” Felix said, wagging a finger. “I told you all, you should have your lines memorized by now. We start blocking this week, and that’s pretty hard to do if you’ve got your eyes glued to paper the whole time.”

Scattered grumbling met his statement, but soon enough, the last of the actors’ scripts had been put away.

Felix held up his own. “Your directors and I still have our scripts. I actually have a copy of their scripts too, so I’ll know whose groups have their work cut out for them,” he said as he eyed the directors.

They sat up a little straighter.

“Now, then. Let’s take it from the top!”

 

* * *

 

Most people knew at least half their lines. Some knew less. Even fewer knew them all.

Sam and his scene partner, Julie, were among those last few. Felix grinned the whole time they performed.

Well, Julie performed. Sam read directly from his memory.

“Good effort,” Felix announced at the end, standing before them all. “Tomorrow, you’ll be splitting up into your groups again, and I’m hoping your directors finally get you to memorize your lines. We should’ve been off book by now, and every day we spend memorizing lines is a day we can’t do a proper rehearsal.”

 

* * *

 

“Can’t say I’m surprised you knew your lines. You knew them last week too, didn’t you?”

Sam shot Felix a curious look. “You could tell?”

“Don’t underestimate me,” Felix said. “Just because I talk a lot doesn’t mean I say everything I know.”

Sam thought that over. It made sense, but he always managed to forget it in light of Felix’s general attitude. Maybe it was part of his constant one-man act.

“Anyway,” Felix continued, “can I come over again? Did your mom chill out?”

“Are you trying to invite yourself over?” Sam asked with a frown.

Felix widened his eyes and batted his eyelashes.

Sam sighed. “You can come if I ask first.”

“And? Did you ask?”

“No...”

Felix let out a long-suffering sigh. “ _Sam_... How am I supposed to pass a test with a single study session? And what about the next test?”

“You’ve passed tests on less,” Sam reminded him.

“You should at least quiz me.”

They reached the gym and Sam looked at Felix, who was once again attempting some sort of pleading expression.

“Fine, tomorrow.”

 

* * *

 

Felix was at Sam’s side the instant the history teacher announced they could work in pairs.

“Alright, Sammy. Ask me what you think’s gonna be on the test,” he said, so Sam did.

It turned out Felix had memorized a surprising quantity of material, but only that which they’d covered in their study session. All the same, it was more than enough for the test, so Sam praised him on a job well done.

“Why, thank you. I had a good teacher, y’know.”

 

* * *

 

Sam knew he’d be asked to repeat himself for Megan’s sake, so he waited to tell Mason about Felix and his mother until they were all seated in the cafeteria.

“That doesn’t make sense though,” Megan said, taking a bite of food.

Sam tilted his head.

Mason chanced a guess. “Because Sam says she didn’t do anything?”

Megan nodded and swallowed before elaborating, “She has to have done _something_. Felix is scary good at reading people, but he can’t read what isn’t there.”

Sam cast his mind back to the visit. “She was colder than usual, but he’d only be able to tell if he already knew her.”

“Not necessarily,” Megan said. “It’s probably one of those subliminal instinct things. We tend to forget about them since they’re ‘just first impressions’, but Felix latches on and he’s usually right. It’s kind of creepy, actually.”

Sam hummed noncommittally. “Tell me about his obsessions.”

Megan’s eyes lit up at the reminder, while Mason groaned and turned his focus to his lunch. She ignored him and took another bite of food, swallowed it, and drank some juice. She then took on a pose that could best be likened to a professional sitting at their desk, looking straight at a camera and delivering an inspirational quote for a PSA.

“Two years ago, when I first started taking drama, Felix got obsessed,” she began. “It was with some guy on the football team. A senior, so two years older than Felix. I didn’t really know him back then since it was my first year in drama, but it was pretty easy to tell the football guy was always on his mind.”

“How?” Sam asked.

Megan grinned madly. “Oh, even you would’ve been able to tell. I guess it’s harder when you’re the one it’s happening to, but from the outside?” She gave a low whistle.

Sam watched her intently. “What did he do?”

“He made the guy’s life impossible. Constantly bothered him, apparently played a couple pranks on him, spread rumors. ‘The usual’, I’d say, if Felix got obsessed more often.”

A raised eyebrow was all it took for her to provide details.

“If I’m remembering right, he once stuck a poster on the guy’s locker first thing in the morning, before any classes. The guy didn’t go back to his locker until way later in the day, so by the time he saw it, so had everyone else. It was... Crude, to say the least,” Megan said with a grimace. “There was also one time with the guy’s car tires, but I didn’t hear much about that. It was constant though, just week after week of Felix torturing him.”

“Why?”

“He was obsessed.”

“But... _Why?”_

Megan sighed and shrugged. “I’m not sure he even knows. He obviously liked the guy, but maybe hated him too? It was weird. _Felix_ is weird.”

“He’s called _me_ weird,” Sam remarked.

“That’s a pot calling the kettle black if I’ve ever heard one,” Megan said as she took the opportunity to eat more of her food.

Sam glanced at Mason, who shrugged and said, “I wasn’t around for all that.”

Megan made a noise of dissent, regaining their attention. She sipped at her drink again before speaking. “You were around for Felix’s second obsession though.”

Mason groaned.

“What was the second one?” Sam asked.

“A girl,” Megan said. “A junior, but she moved away over the summer. Felix was _slightly_ better at dealing with things by then, but not by much.”

“Did he like her?”

“Yeah. He also talked a lot of shit about her. Kept trying to seduce her. Sometimes annoy her, and by that I mean he specifically set out to annoy her, not just as a byproduct of whatever else he was trying to do.”

Mason interrupted, “Remember the prom thing?”

“How could I ever forget?” Megan asked with a grin.

“Prom thing?” Sam asked.

Megan rubbed her hands together. “Oh, finally I get to tell someone new this story,” she said. “I’ve already told just about everyone I know, but it’s never as fun if they don’t know Felix too.”

Sam finished his sandwich and settled in. Using what little time they had left, Megan proceeded to recount—with occasional help from Mason—the harrowing tale of last year’s prom.

According to her, after Felix’s many unsuccessful attempts to gain his obsession’s affections, he devised a new strategy. Namely, to ask all her friends to prom instead of her.

It was then that Mason interjected, saying that he’d heard a few rumors of money being involved in the whole process. Specifically, the part of the process where none of the girls were to let anyone else know that he was their prom date. They could certainly say they _had_ a prom date, just not _who_.

Megan picked up from where she’d left off, detailing how the time for prom came. The girl and her friends arrived, since Felix had apparently agreed to meet them at prom itself. Sure enough, he eventually arrived as well, at which point the girl’s friends had gotten up to go greet him. They promptly realized he was all their dates and demanded that he provide an explanation.

Mason had to take over the storytelling as Megan tried to overcome her giggles. He detailed how during the confrontation, Felix had somehow managed to turn everyone on each other instead of him, perhaps through some choice gossip or the aforementioned potential bribery. No one really knew, but in less than a minute, tensions had boiled over and some sort of fight broke out.

Felix took that as his cue to leave, and all things considered, everyone agreed he could’ve done a lot worse. It wasn’t until the following school days that the long-term repercussions of his actions became evident: The girl’s friend group had splintered and broken, and with her being the only one uninvolved in the fight, it left her in the uncomfortable position of still being friends with people who wanted nothing to do with each other.

In short, Felix had spared her immediate pain in favor of something much crueler.

The story had just barely wrapped up as the bell rang. The three of them gathered their things, and began leaving the cafeteria.

“So basically,” Megan said, placing a hand on Sam’s arm, “having Felix obsess over you isn’t good, but I don’t know if I’d call it bad either. It depends on how you take it, I guess. And who knows? He seems to be improving. Maybe this year he’ll just publicly shame you or something.”

 

* * *

 

The possibility that he was Felix’s newfound obsession had never been a comforting thought by any means, but Sam now found himself downright unnerved by it.

What terrible fate awaited him if Felix didn’t get his way? And what _was_ Felix’s way in the first place? From what Megan had said, his past obsessions had never attempted to find out, and because of that, it was possible that not even Felix himself knew.

That was troublesome.

Sam always preferred to know what he was getting into ahead of time. Preparation was key and practice was invaluable. Without knowing what Felix wanted from him, how could he hope to prepare or practice?

Though he could hazard guesses, he didn’t foresee them being of any use. Felix’s goals when it came to his obsessions seemed ever changing depending on circumstance. Sometimes he wanted attention, sometimes he wanted to hurt. He was like an admirer and enemy in one package.

Come to think of it, had Felix ever had any enemies? Sam had a feeling he’d treat any such people similarly to how he’d treated his obsessions.

He resolved to ask Megan after literature.

 

* * *

 

After a solid minute of thinking, Megan confirmed that no, Felix had never described anyone as being his enemy.

Sam’s worst suspicions were confirmed.

Having Felix obsessed with him was dangerous.

 

* * *

 

“What are you being all broody about?”

Sam looked up to find Felix standing beside his desk.

He had a feeling the truth wouldn’t do much to keep him in Felix’s good graces, so he offered, “Nothing.”

Felix quirked an eyebrow.

Sam looked away.

The bell rang before their silent exchange could continue, and Felix instantly made his way to the front of the room.

 

* * *

 

Sam, Felix, and Julie spent the majority of the hour outside, running through their scene.

With Sam and Julie both being off book, it enabled Felix to begin giving them more complex directions. While he still gave pointers on line delivery, he’d now progressed to blocking too. ‘Turn away’, ‘use your hands’, and ‘come downstage’ were just a few of his many directions.

By the time they headed back inside, their scene was roughly planned out. All it needed was some polishing, perfecting...

Preparation. Practice.

Inside, Felix encouraged them all to keep working on their scenes at home, and also informed them that there would be a basic rehearsal at the end of the week.

 

* * *

 

“The scene’s coming out nicely, don’t you think?”

Sam hummed noncommittally.

“Okay, seriously. You’ve been acting weird. Well, _weirder_. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Sam said again.

Felix rolled his eyes. “You know, that only works if you can pull it off, and you’re not _that_ good an actor.”

Sam said nothing.

“Goddammit,” Felix muttered. “Not this again.”

They spent the rest of their walk to the gym in silence.

 

* * *

 

Wednesday came and went without much fanfare.

Felix continually tried to catch his eye, and Sam studiously avoided it whenever possible. It was only during drama that the task became more difficult, and even then it was still doable.

After class, Sam waited for Felix before beginning his walk to the gym, despite having no intention of talking to him.

Similarly, Felix joined him and made no effort at a conversation, though he did unsubtly keep shooting looks his way.

Signs on the gym doors informed them that, for the foreseeable future, all physical education classes would take place indoors on account of the decreasing temperatures.

“Fucking _thank you_ ,” Felix muttered, and Sam allowed himself a muted smile.

 

* * *

 

Felix lasted until Thursday.

“Did I piss you off again?” he asked, having pulled Sam aside after history.

“No,” Sam said. “Don’t worry about it.”

Felix gritted his teeth. “Then why the fuck aren’t you talking to me?”

In all honesty, Sam didn’t know. He’d deliberated for days over what Megan had told him. He couldn’t deny that there was something exciting about the idea of someone like Felix being interested in him, whether the nature of that interest was ambiguous or not.

However, the fact remained that it _was_ ambiguous, and apparently had no chance of ever being anything but. Felix’s last two obsessions had shown that catching his interest was both a blessing and a curse— possibly leaning towards the latter.

Then again, Sam had no real way of knowing that for sure. Felix’s last two obsessions had plainly rejected him, and who knew of any ones that came before? What if all Felix needed was someone to put up with him?

But why should that someone be Sam?

“Hello? Earth to Sam!”

Felix poked him in the stomach, pulling him from his thoughts. Sam instinctively glared at him, but then the annoyance fizzled out, once again replaced by his internal dilemma.

“You think too loud,” Felix said, then walked away and left Sam to his thoughts.

 

* * *

 

“What should I do about Felix?” Sam asked at lunch.

Megan gave him a sympathetic look. “You don’t _do_ anything about Felix, you just let Felix happen.”

Mason nodded along.

“No,” Sam refuted, “I need to do something. I’ve tried doing nothing and it’s only making him angry.”

Megan raised an eyebrow. “You’ve tried doing nothing and it’s making him angry?” she asked.

The next few minutes were taken up by Sam’s summary of the past days’ Felix-related interactions. When he finished, both Megan and Mason were slowly shaking their heads at him.

“What?” he asked.

“Sam...” Megan started, but then said nothing more.

Mason spoke up with his own take on the situation. “It sounds like you’ve thought about this a lot.”

“I have,” Sam confirmed.

“Well,” Mason continued, “what do you _want_ to do?”

Sam frowned. Want? That didn’t matter. What he _should_ do was the important question, the very one he’d asked them to provide an answer for.

Megan cleared her throat and said, “I think what Mason’s trying to say is... Don’t let the stories get to you?”

Sam opened his mouth but she went on before he could protest.

“Sure, you should keep them in mind as things Felix has done, and the kind of person he is,” she said. “But it’s pretty obvious you like hanging out with him, so why not keep doing that? You probably would’ve if I’d never told you those stories, and yeah, you can make better choices now that you know. That doesn’t mean that completely ending your friendship is one of those better choices.”

“We’re not friends,” Sam said.

“Aren’t you?” Megan asked.

“No...”

She shrugged and said, “If that’s how you feel, then I guess this whole talk is kind of pointless. It doesn’t matter if Felix is mad at you for ignoring him, and it doesn’t matter what you end up doing.”

She then turned to Mason and began an entirely unrelated discussion, leaving Sam to stew in his thoughts for the rest of lunch.

 

* * *

 

“I apologize for ignoring you,” Sam said as they began their walk to the gym.

Felix watched him with wide eyes.

Sam felt he should say something more, but in absence of anything more to say, he settled for, “That’s all.”

“‘ _That’s all’?”_ Felix incredulously asked. “You ignore me for days with absolutely no explanation, then say ‘ _that’s all’?”_

“I already apologized.”

Felix huffed. “Are you gonna keep doing this? Is it just a thing you do, shut people out and never even say why?”

The expected burst of annoyance came, accompanied by a dose of guilt at being so acutely characterized. There he was, agonizing over Felix’s past and possible future transgressions, while he himself was actively engaging in transgressions of his own.

Sam resolved to fix the situation right then and there.

“I’ll do better,” he said.

Felix dismissively glanced at him, then did a double take. Sam maintained their eye contact. Slowly, Felix’s features smoothed out, only to be replaced by a smirk.

“I’m gonna hold you to that, Sammy.”

 

* * *

 

No, Sam wouldn’t forget Megan’s stories.

He knew Felix should be handled carefully, not just because of the stories, but because of everything he’d come to know through firsthand experience.

He also knew that he was going to keep talking to Felix, keep inviting him over, keep fueling his obsession, and why? Because Megan was right.

Sam did consider Felix a friend.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, thanks, Sammy. Definitely passed this time.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“When’s the next study session?”

Sam paused. In all his turmoil over Felix, he hadn’t asked his parents about inviting him again.

“...You didn’t ask, did you?”

“...No...”

Felix sighed. “Ask? _Please?”_

“I will.”

 

* * *

 

True to Felix’s word, drama consisted of every group performing, one after the other.

There were still a few people who hadn’t completely memorized everything, prompting their directors to feed them their lines, but Felix said nothing even though Sam could see his jaw working in frustration every time it happened.

When it was Sam and Julie’s turn to perform, Felix sat up straighter and fixed them with an expectant gaze.

Sam tried his best not to disappoint, keeping all Felix’s scene directions in mind. Julie seemed to be doing the same, and for being a newbie, had already proven herself to have a notable onstage presence.

Their scene progressed smoothly, and the eventual return to their seats was to the tune of enthusiastic applause.

Likely due to Julie. Sam doubted he’d managed anything more than his usual.

Felix reminded them all to practice over the extended weekend, and also pointed out that they’d be meeting in the auditorium next week.

“Just three more weeks, guys!”

 

* * *

 

“When can Felix come again?”

“To study?” Sam’s mother asked, holding out an open hand.

He passed her a lump of dough. “Yes.”

She said nothing, occupied with shaping the dough. Sam busied himself by doing the same. Two fledgling bread rolls later, she gave her verdict.

“Maybe on the weekend?”

“Which?”

She held out her hand for more dough and he obliged.

“Which weekends are there?” she asked.

“The next one and the one that comes after,” he said. “The next test isn’t until after the second one, because there’s no school that whole week.”

“Mm, I see.”

A minute passed with neither saying anything, the dough their only focus.

“The second could work,” his mother concluded. “No?”

“Alright.”


	15. Season 1, Episode 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the most part, this fic is set in 2005, with all that entails.

Sam spent his Monday off productively.

In other words, he binged a good number of _Revolutionary Girl Utena_ episodes and resolved to watch the rest in the coming days.

He’d already seen the show.

The Monday was still productive.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Sam. I had an idea for the scene.”

It turned out that Julie was in his algebra class and he’d never noticed.

He’d feel worse about it if he hadn’t already resigned himself to a strangely unobservant existence.

“What’s your idea?” he asked.

She proceeded to detail an alternate take on their scene, a more overt one compared to Felix’s approach. More raw emotion, more exaggerated movements.

Sam listened intently, and once she finished, said, “That could be interesting.”

“Yeah?” she asked, smiling widely. “But do you think we should try it? Should I ask Felix?”

“You could.”

“I think I will. The worst he can do is say no, right?”

The question seemed rhetorical, for which Sam was thankful.

He didn’t want to detail all the worse things Felix could do.

 

* * *

 

Again, Felix pulled him aside after history.

“You see that?" he asked, shoving his test at Sam. “It’s gotta be my highest grade yet.”

“Congratulations,” Sam said, then paused.

Perhaps he should put in a good word for Julie?

Before he could think better of it, he mentioned, “Julie had an idea for our scene.”

Felix raised an eyebrow. “You’ve talked?”

“She’s in my algebra class.”

Felix’s eyebrow went down. “What idea?”

“She said she’d ask you about it,” Sam said.

“Mm. Alright,” Felix said with a shrug. “Catch ya’ later, Sammy.”

 

* * *

 

“So how are things with you and Felix?”

Sam looked up from his textbook, the question catching him off guard. Not by its own merits, but because Mason rarely discussed anything that wasn’t pertinent to the assignment at hand.

“Fine,” Sam said, uncertain of what specifics Mason might be after.

“You sure?”

Sam nodded.

“Hmm. Good,” Mason said, and nothing more.

 

* * *

 

The literature teacher assigned an essay, much to the class’s chagrin.

Sam didn’t see why; they had a whole month to work on it.

 

* * *

 

Nearly everyone was assembled in the auditorium when Sam and Megan arrived.

Sam immediately spotted Julie talking to Felix, no doubt pitching her idea. Despite his curiosity, Sam took the time to put his bag down in one of the audience seats, then carefully approached the pair of them.

“—and so we make the whole thing more obvious like that,” Julie was saying, her smile lacking its previous vibrance.

Unsure.

Felix watched her in a way that was unnaturally still for him. Even his stance was somehow calmer than usual. His eyes briefly jumped to Sam, just for a split-second, and then they were back on Julie.

She finished her pitch right as Sam joined them.

“Would that... Would that work?” she asked.

Sam braced himself.

Felix blinked, and Sam had absolutely no idea how such a simple action managed to convey so much contempt. Julie’s smile had begun to fade, and Felix remained silent. He looked off into the distance, as if considering Julie’s proposal, but Sam knew he wasn’t.

The tension nearly reached its breaking point when the bell rang.

“Sure. Try it that way,” Felix said, then clambered onto the stage to start the class off.

Sam and Julie both let out a collective breath. They stared after him a few seconds, then Julie turned to Sam and shakily asked, “He’s kind of scary, isn’t he?”

That was an understatement.

 

* * *

 

One by one, each group took to the stage to perform, adapting their scene to the larger space and projecting their voices out for their audience of peers.

Eventually, it was Sam and Julie’s turn. They ran through the scene as Julie envisioned it, exacerbating their performances. Sam raised his voice, not just by projecting, but in anger, and Julie matched his tone, even shoving him during one of her strongest lines.

She hadn’t said she would do that.

Sam didn’t mind it. The shove was light, carefully enacted to only appear forceful.

They finished their scene and returned to their seats.

 

* * *

 

“You realize her dream role’s probably Juliet because of her name?”

Sam considered that. Technically speaking, it was a possibility, but the way Felix said it, there was no room for doubt.

“What makes you so sure?” Sam asked.

Felix scoffed. “Oh, please. It’s obvious.”

It really wasn’t, at least not to Sam. “You think it’s actually her dream role?”

“Of course it is,” Felix said. “Probably sees herself breathing new life into it or some shit. Blending the old, traditional Juliet performances with a new, modern take. She’ll be a _visionary_ , so innovative and special. And wouldn’t you know, she’s a Julie-ette herself! _Splendid_.”

Sam said nothing.

A moment passed in silence.

“Are you upset with her?” Sam asked.

“Upset? Me?” Felix rolled his eyes. “Why would I be? She’s a decent talent with some good ideas.”

“...But you prefer things done your way?”

“Don’t we all?” Felix replied. “But if you’re thinking that’s what annoyed me, then no.”

“So you _are_ annoyed.”

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.”

They arrived at the gym before Sam could hazard another guess as to why.

 

* * *

 

Rather than change into their sportswear, they were made to assemble in the gym’s meeting room.

What ensued was an hour of shoddily outlined facts about the cardiovascular system, courtesy of one of the physical education teachers. Though all of them doubled as coaches for the sports teams, none made it quite so evident as the woman before them now.

It was less a lesson and more an exercise in avoiding eye contact.

“Geez,” Felix mumbled under his breath at Sam, “you’re a _way_ better teacher than her.”

“I’m a tutor at best,” Sam quietly replied.

“You’re still better.”

 

* * *

 

“By the way,” Sam said as they walked to the parking lot, “you can come over again next week.”

Felix grinned. “See? That’s why you’re better.”

 

* * *

 

They split up into their groups for a final time, the directors’ last chance to polish scenes on a one-on-one basis with their actors.

Despite Sam’s fears, Felix was nothing but polite to Julie, though noticeably colder than he’d once been. Even so, he encouraged them to act out the scene as they saw fit.

Sam looked at Julie and she looked at him.

“I guess it’s up to you,” she said. “My way or Felix’s. Unless you have another idea?”

“I don’t,” Sam said.

“Then...” she trailed off, spreading her hands.

Sam glanced at Felix.

Felix was carefully looking anywhere but at them, and though Sam tried to catch his eye, it was to no avail.

Giving up, Sam turned back to Julie and said, “Your idea worked well, but I think we should stick to Felix’s.”

She gave him a muted smile and nodded.

By contrast, Felix was looking positively vindicated. He turned to face them with lips stretched thin and eyes narrowed, to say nothing of the way his chest was practically puffing out.

“Alright,” he said. “Let’s take it from the top.”

 

* * *

 

“Have you checked out the book fair yet?” Felix asked on their way to the gym.

“Book fair?”

“Yeah, it’s this week.”

Sam racked his mind.

“Come on, don’t tell me you’ve never been to a book fair before,” Felix said. “They set up some stands and you’re supposed to buy books, but all anyone ever cares about are the little trinkets and shit.”

The description, crass as it was, jogged Sam’s memory. He had indeed been to one or two book fairs at his past schools. They’d never had the kinds of books that interested him, whether manga or something far beyond his grade’s recommended reading level.

“I’ve been to a few.”

“Well, then,” Felix said with a grin. “We’re going to the book fair after school.”

 

* * *

 

Yet again, they were lectured by the coach masquerading as a teacher, this time on the respiratory system.

Felix grinned to himself as the topic turned to CPR.

Sam’s curiosity was piqued, but he swallowed down the urge to ask what exactly Felix found so entertaining.

 

* * *

 

True to his word, Felix dragged Sam away as soon as they left the gym.

“Why do you want me to go to the book fair?” Sam asked.

“Because it’s fun as hell,” Felix replied. “Even when all they’ve got is trash, it’s fun. The same way that going to the dollar store is fun.”

Sam wasn’t entirely certain he grasped Felix’s idea of fun, but that didn’t matter.

It was fun seeing Felix so enthusiastic over something that didn’t involve himself.

 

* * *

 

Five minutes later, they were in the library, looking through the collection of stands. There was already a small line at the cash register, students of various ages all equally keen to make a purchase.

“Is it always this popular?” Sam asked Felix.

“Yeah. When’s the last time you even came to one?”

“...Second grade.”

Felix barked out a laugh. “Wow, you’ve got a decade of book fairs to make up for!”

“Make up how?”

“Buy stuff,” Felix said. “Anything look interesting?”

Not particularly. The offerings were much like Sam remembered them: Popular novels, a smattering of nonfiction, and more than a few pieces of stationery.

He shook his head, but Felix was already plucking something from a shelf.

“Oh, this is cute,” he said, flipping through it. “It’s like a friend journal. You know, for people who obsessively keep track of their friends. Want it?”

Sam looked down at its gaudy cover and questionnaire-filled pages. He frowned. “Why would I?”

“I dunno, don’t you obsessively keep track of shit?” Felix asked. “Now it can be less depressing than just tracking your homework or whatever it is you do.” He flipped to the back. “Aww, look, it’s got stickers. C’mon, I’ll get it for you.”

Sam raised an eyebrow.

Felix grinned. “Just promise me you’ll use it, yeah?”

 

* * *

 

Sam sat at his desk and flipped through the journal.

His initial impressions had been correct: Gaudy, filled with questionnaires, and altogether something he wasn’t likely to have ever bought himself.

Maybe that was all the more reason to have gotten it— or, to be precise, allowed Felix to have gotten it for him.

Not that Felix would’ve accepted his refusal.

Sam turned to the first page.

**_This journal belongs to ___!_ **

Sam filled in his name.

**_My friends are:_**

Several blank lines took up the rest of the page.

Sam wondered what the appropriate order for filling out such a list was. Chronologically? By familiarity? A merit-based system?

.....

Felix was right, Sam did obsessively keep track of things.

Simply for being right, Sam wrote Felix’s name on the first line.

He promptly had an internal dilemma over how much of a disservice the action was to Megan and Mason. For that matter, which of the two should he place on the second line?

But...

Maybe the list didn’t need to be in order.

 

* * *

 

**_This journal belongs to_ ** **Sam** ** _!_**

**_My friends are:_**

**** **** **** **Felix (for being right)**

**Mason (for being kind)**

**Megan (for being supportive)**

 

* * *

 

Sam debated whether or not to tell Megan and Mason about the journal.

Setting aside the fact that Felix had gotten it for him, there was the whole issue of it being a journal for keeping track of friends. Wasn’t that the kind of thing people found weird? He didn’t want to be weird, not in Megan and Mason’s eyes.

He elected to keep the journal safely tucked away in his bag.

 

* * *

 

“Okay, everyone,” Felix began as soon as the bell rang. “Today, we’ll be rehearsing like always, except this time, I’m giving each group tips on their scene. Because of that, I doubt we’ll have time to run through everyone’s scenes, so we’re leaving the rest for tomorrow. Got it?”

A mixture of nods and vocal confirmations.

“Then let’s get started!” Felix called out, hopping down from the stage.

 

* * *

 

“Megan’s group was probably the best today, don’t you think?”

Sam hummed his assent.

“Pretty bold of her to make them go first,” Felix continued. “I guess she’s pulling it off though.”

Sam said nothing, again debating whether or not to bring up the journal. Yes, Felix had gotten it for him, and yes, he’d asked Sam to use it, but there was always the possibility that it was all an elaborate joke. Felix was known for those, in a manner of speaking.

“Something on your mind, Sammy?”

The temptation to say ‘nothing’ and leave it at that was strong, but Sam had resolved to stop being evasive. In accordance with that, he steeled himself and said, “I’ve been filling out the friend journal.”

Felix’s eyebrows went up, but to Sam’s relief, the grin that followed didn’t exude the maliciousness that came with a joke well-played.

“Way to go,” Felix said, reaching out to pat Sam’s shoulder. “Only good things about me, I hope.”

Oh.

So that was it.

Felix considered them friends.

Sam already knew, in a way. There were only so many times you could seek out someone’s company otherwise.

But having it confirmed in so many words?

“Only good things,” he assured.

 

* * *

 

Again, the coach attempted to hold their attention for an hour, extolling the virtues of different types of exercises.

Felix didn’t even make conversation anymore, too busy holding his head up in one hand and looking for all the world as if he were on the verge of falling asleep.

To be fair, Sam couldn’t blame him.

 

* * *

 

**_My best friend’s name is _____!_**

**_We met when:_**

**_Our favorite thing to do together is:_**

 

* * *

 

Sam stared at the page.

Best friend? It was hard enough just writing down his friends, and now this journal expected him to declare which among them was _best?_

He flipped through the pages until he found one asking for generic information about himself.

That, he could do.

 

* * *

 

Sam and Julie’s performance was followed by Felix’s usual critiques. None of it was harsh, and all of it made sense. To Sam’s surprise, Felix’s apparent animosity towards Julie appeared to have simmered down, and he was back to treating her as he once had.

Felix made his way onto the stage as soon as they left it.

“As you all know, we have next week off,” he said. “That means we only get one more week of rehearsals before performance week.”

A few gasps were heard.

Felix nodded. “That’s right. So make sure you practice over the break! As soon as we get back, we’ll figure out props and sets. Nothing too fancy, but it’ll go a long way. Same for costuming.”

The bell rang.

“I’ll know if you haven’t practiced!”

 

* * *

 

“So when am I coming over next week?”

Sam hesitated. He hadn’t asked his mother for specifics, which in hindsight was an obvious line of questioning.

Felix tsked. “You didn’t ask, did you?”

“No...”

Felix let out a sigh, then pulled out a pencil and opened one of his notebooks. “Gimme your number,” he said. “I’ll just call you tomorrow and ask. Or the day after, I dunno.”

Sam didn’t think he’d ever had someone call him specifically. At most, relatives would occasionally call and speak to him in passing, their true goals being long-winded conversations with his parents.

He gave Felix his number.

 

* * *

 

To the class’s surprise, instead of another athletics-related lesson, they were given a test.

Each of them was handed a blank sheet of paper on which they were to write their name and the date. They were then asked a series of questions to be answered on the paper. Most of them were simple, but a few required remembering precise details from the lessons.

Fortunately, Sam had spent the whole week paying attention to those lessons.

From the shocked whispering that ensued after the test finished, it seemed most people hadn’t.

 

* * *

 

There was a knock at his door.

“Yes?”

“You have a call,” came his mother’s voice. “It’s Felix.”

Sam opened the door and took the phone. “Hello?”

“You gave me your house number?”

“Yes.”

Felix’s amusement was clear as he asked, “What, you don’t have a cell?”

In all honesty, Sam often forgot that he did. His parents had gotten it for him in case of emergencies, but given that he never actually used it—for emergencies or otherwise—it was hardly ever at the forefront of his mind when asked for a phone number.

In lieu of explaining himself, he simply said, “I don’t use it.”

“That sure sounds like a story, but I’m guessing you aren’t any chattier on the phone than you are in person.”

“Probably not.”

“Then let’s cut to the chase,” Felix said. “When am I coming over?”

“Saturday. The next one.”

“Yeah, I figured. What time?”

“You can come at eleven and stay until four.”

“A. M.?”

“Yes. No. Eleven, not four.”

“I’m just messing with you,” Felix laughed.

Sam frowned.

“So I guess I’ll see you then, Sammy.”

“Yes.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it.”


	16. Season 1, Episode 15

The week passed by uneventfully.

Sam finished his homework and took the opportunity to write the first draft of his literature essay. He also made some final edits to his previously completed biology project and placed the finished product in his bag, ready to hand in once he returned to school.

At one point, he pulled out the friend journal and flipped through it, stopping on a random page.

**_How well do you know your best friend? Fill out their favorite things below, then ask them how many you got right!_**

The journal was pressuring him to choose a ‘best friend’ _again_. Couldn’t he keep track of his few friends in peace without being asked to rank them?

He put the journal away.

 

* * *

 

“Sami, do you want to come shopping with me?”

He had nothing better to do.

 

* * *

 

“So Felix is coming on Saturday?”

“Yes,” Sam said, pulling out a shopping cart.

His mother nodded. “If he’s staying later this time, maybe we should prepare something. Do you know what he likes to eat?”

“No...”

“Hmm. Is there anything he doesn’t like?”

Sam gave his best facial shrug.

His mother sighed. “Well, I can just leave you both more snacks.”

 

* * *

 

“Has he been behaving well ever since you helped him?”

“More or less.”

His mother turned to look at him, gaze scrutinizing.

Sam said nothing.

She abruptly turned away and pointed at some cans on the top shelf. “Could you pass me one of those, please?”

Sam did so, and as soon as he handed it to her, she asked, “So you two are friends?”

“...Yes?”

“You don’t sound very sure.”

“...We are...”

His mother said nothing, but kept him in her sight as they navigated the supermarket.

Sam attempted to keep his face as neutral as possible, but had a feeling he wasn’t very successful.

 

* * *

 

“Is there anything else we needed to buy? Any projects you need a poster board for?”

Sam shook his head.

“Then let’s head back home— Wait, no,” his mother cut herself off. “I wanted to mail those things out to your Aunt Monica. Okay, to the post office and then home.”

 

* * *

 

Sam was idly staring out the car window when his mother asked, “Is history the only class you have with Felix?”

Sam knew this day would come. With any luck, his mother wouldn’t ask him why he’d glossed over Felix’s presence in drama for so long, but he wasn’t counting on it.

“He’s also in drama.”

“Oh, yes?” his mother asked, before going silent a moment. “You know, thinking about it now, it shows.”

A small smile quirked Sam’s lips upwards.

 

* * *

 

Sam and his father were watching a documentary when his mother’s voice rang out, summoning him to the kitchen.

“Sami, I’m making bread, do you want to help?”

Ten minutes later, he was elbow-deep in kneading dough and answering his mother’s questions about Felix’s drama performances.

“And this is his fourth year taking the class?”

“Yes,” Sam grunted, working the dough into shape.

“Wow,” his mother said as she adjusted the oven. “Has anyone else taken it that much?”

“No,” he replied, relieved to find the dough was reaching its ideal state.

“So is he the teacher’s favorite?”

Sam let out a noise of dissent. “No, we have a substitute.”

“Ah, yes, I remember you said that. And the substitute? Does she like him?”

“I imagine so,” Sam said, starting to divide the dough into smaller pieces, “or she wouldn’t have left him in charge of the class.”

“ _What?_ She left him in charge of the _class?”_ his mother asked, eyes going wide.

“Who’s in charge of the class?” Sam’s father asked, walking into the kitchen.

“Sami says the drama substitute left Felix in charge of the class.”

His father seemed impressed. “Mm. Looks like things are going well for him!”

“But what does he do? Does he teach you all?” his mother asked, starting to work with the lumps of dough.

“Yes. He teaches well,” Sam said, voicing something he’d rarely let himself acknowledge. “He’s not very professional, but we still learn a lot.”

“Oh? Like what?” his father asked, peeking into the refrigerator.

“Hey, these’ll be ready soon,” his mother reminded, patting one of the prospective bread rolls. “Don’t fill up on snacks.”

His father sheepishly closed the refrigerator.

“A little of everything,” Sam said, answering his father’s question. “He usually speaks from experience and tells us what we’re supposed to be learning, but in his own way.”

His answer, vague as it was, only served to pique his parents’ curiosity further, and he spent the rest of the baking session summarizing Felix’s lessons and teaching methods.

 

* * *

 

Sam hadn’t had a chance to camp out in his backyard since the start of the school year, so when the realization that he had a whole week off from school finally hit him, he decided to make the most of it.

True, half that week was gone, but that left an entire second half at his disposal.

He set up his tent again, brought out what few supplies he needed, and proceeded to spend his day there, reading books and occasionally watching bugs crawl by.

As much as he would’ve liked to, his parents insisted that he didn’t sleep there as well. In their eyes, the nights had gotten too cold for that.

They were probably right, but that didn’t mean Sam had to be happy about it.

He spent the next day in his tent, and the one after.

“Are you going to invite Felix to study in the tent?” his father asked at dinner.

Sam considered it.

“Yes.”

 

* * *

 

Felix arrived to little fanfare. Like before, Sam was ready and waiting for him.

As soon as they got their greetings out of the way, Sam announced, “We’ll be studying outside.”

Felix gave him a curious look. “Outside, as in...?”

“Follow me,” Sam said, taking off around the side of the house.

“What, like on the porch?” Felix asked, walking along beside him. “That’s a shame, I was hoping I’d get to see all your nerdy posters again.”

Sam shook his head. “Not the porch. And you can see them again some other time. Or we can eventually come back inside. But for now...” he trailed off, gesturing to the tent half-hidden behind some trees.

Felix said nothing for a few seconds, then remarked, “Every time I think you can’t get weirder, you go and pull shit like this. Seriously!”

Sam ignored him, already heading for the tent. Unsurprisingly, the sound of Felix scurrying along after him soon followed.

“Dude, how do you keep raising the weirdness bar? I’m honestly dying to know.”

“Practice,” Sam said as he ducked down and entered the tent.

“Uh-huh. Hey, uh, Sammy?”

“Yes?”

Felix crouched down and peered into the tent. “Isn’t this kind of small for us both?”

Sam looked around.

It seemed Felix had a point.

Unfortunate.

He didn’t particularly enjoy the idea of admitting his oversight, but the alternative was pretending he’d already accounted for that possibility.

“Unless you wanna cuddle,” Felix threw out with a cheeky grin. “It _is_ pretty chilly, after all.”

Sam might’ve had a talent for making things progressively weirder, but Felix had a talent for making them more awkward.

Or maybe that was a product of both their talents combined, in which case Felix’s personal talent remained a mystery.

...Felix was waiting for him to say something, wasn’t he?

“I- I don’t. Mind.”

One of Felix’s rare, lopsided grins made an appearance. “You don’t sound too sure there,” he pointed out.

“I am,” Sam refuted, and to prove his point, squeezed himself as far back into the tent as he could.

Felix raised an eyebrow, looking entirely too amused for Sam’s taste. After a moment, he shrugged. “If you insist,” he said, crawling in.

As predicted, it was indeed a tight fit. Sam tried to squeeze himself closer to the back wall, but Felix still ended up snugly pressed along his side. The little space left over was occupied by their legs, despite not being fully stretched out.

“Please tell me you’ve got a pillow or something, or my ass is gonna be flat as a pancake by the time we’re done,” Felix grumbled.

Luckily, that _was_ something Sam had thought of.

He reached into his supply bag and pulled out a cushion. Felix immediately reached for it, and as soon as Sam passed it over, proceeded to lift himself up and shove the cushion where he’d just been sitting. He then gracelessly dropped back down with his full weight, letting out a satisfied sigh.

“Much better,” he said, shifting in place. “Don’t suppose you’ve got some snacks in there to kick this whole thing off?”

Again, something Sam had prepared for.

Felix’s eyes shone with glee as Sam produced a handful of candy bars.

 

* * *

 

“Do you actually have drama goals at all? Or are you happy just surviving?”

Felix could only focus on history for less than an hour at a time before inevitably seeking out new conversation topics. After their first study session, Sam had slowly grown used to it, and now fully expected it.

Even welcomed it to an extent.

He had no problems with relegating his focus to a single topic for long stretches, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate the variety that came with Felix’s random musings.

“I’m happy to survive,” Sam said, sticking his notes in the textbook before laying it aside. “And...”

“And?”

Sam gave a slow shrug. “Positive attention is enjoyable.”

“Aww, Sammy,” Felix cooed. “Is that your way of saying you like it when people clap for you?”

“No... Not exactly.”

“Then what is it?” Felix asked, adjusting himself until he was curled up on the ground with his head on the cushion, staring up at Sam.

Sam wondered how to phrase his answer. He’d meant what he said— positive attention was enjoyable, but it had nothing to do with the applause that accompanied every performance, not even when that applause was more enthusiastic than simple courtesy would call for.

That was enjoyable too though.

But no, what Sam really enjoyed was something subtler.

It was Mason complimenting his pantomime and Megan’s intense congratulations. It was the way Julie grinned after their first performance had gone off without a hitch and the way Sam was steadily becoming accustomed to taking the stage.

And yes, it was when he’d first considered the thought that taking drama might be worth it, right after Felix had delivered yet another one of his pseudo-compliments, clearly poking fun at Sam while at the same time praising him.

Hmm. He was thinking too long, wasn’t he?

He glanced down to see Felix still curled up, apparently content to lie there and stare.

“You think really loudly,” was all he said.

“I have a lot to think about,” Sam replied.

Felix smiled. “I can see that.”

They watched each other for a few seconds.

“Got any more candy?” Felix asked, breaking the silence.

Sam sighed and reached into his supply bag.

 

* * *

 

“Okay, real talk for a second here.”

Sam put his textbook aside again.

“I might need history lessons, but you absolutely need acting lessons,” Felix said. “Don’t get me wrong, you’ve got the emoting down pat. It’s the actual acting part I’m not so sure about.”

Sam squinted. “What do you mean?”

“That!” Felix said, hands splayed wide and gesturing towards Sam. “Your face! It’s so obvious how confused you are, because you _are_. You’re not acting it.”

Panic flared up within Sam. He wondered if Felix’s accusation heralded the beginning of the end, whether it was the prelude to his reputation in drama being dragged through the mud. He couldn’t _act_ , he’d only gotten up on that imaginary stage and pretended he could, and somehow they’d all bought it.

All except Felix.

“ _Relax_ ,” Felix drawled. “You look like you’re about to have some sort of attack.”

How could Sam relax? There Felix was, completely unraveling any ounce of credibility Sam might’ve ever fostered in drama.

What would Megan and Mason think?

“Dude! Stop it,” Felix said, snapping his fingers. “Here, eat some candy and take a breather.”

He shoved his last bite-sized chocolate bar in Sam’s hands and watched him expectantly. Sam stared down at the bar. He unwrapped it and pushed it into his mouth.

He didn’t even like chocolate that much.

“Okay, that’s better,” Felix said. “Now how about you tell me what that was all about?”

Sam slowly chewed the bar, trying to condense his internal struggle into as few words as possible. By the time he finished chewing, he’d nearly formulated a coherent summary. He took a sip from the juice box he’d brought along and cleared his throat.

“I’m not an actor,” he said.

“Yeah.”

How blunt. But that was alright, Sam could deal with blunt.

“I shouldn’t be in drama.”

Felix laughed. “Are you kidding me? There’s no ‘should’ in drama. You’re either there or you’re not, and you make the most of it if you are.”

Sam’s frown deepened. “I’m not making the most of it,” he argued. “I’m just there, surviving and hoping no one realizes I don’t belong, and now you have.”

“Sam... That’s exactly why you _do_ belong, maybe more than half the people already there.”

Sam stared at Felix.

Felix ran a hand through his hair. “Right, so it’s like this,” he started. “Nearly everyone there _wants_ to act. It's easy to spot the few who don't because they make absolutely no effort, but the rest? Typical aspiring actors. Most will end up doing something else with their lives, a couple will actually get themselves some sort of acting career, and even fewer will be able to live off of that career. You with me so far?”

Sam nodded.

“Great. So I can see that, and you can too. It’s obvious to anyone who looks at them for five seconds. Especially seeing them in class. Yeah, there were a couple who started out shy and probably weren’t there by choice, but now they’ve gotten into the swing of things and are definitely giving it their all from here on out. Unlike you, they’ve decided they’re not just going to survive, they’re going to _thrive_.”

Sam dejectedly sipped at more of his juice.

“But you!”

Sam barely suppressed a jump at Felix’s exclamation.

“You said you’re barely surviving, that you don’t belong, but that’s where you’re wrong. Don’t you see? Everybody else, they’re not acting! Sure, when they go onstage they are, but off? Absolutely hopeless! Always worrying about their next performance, trying to make sure it’s the best it can be, thinking of new ways to expand their range. Yeah, they wanna be there, and everyone can tell.”

Felix clamped a hand on Sam’s shoulder and leaned closer, lowering his voice.

“No one can tell with _you_ ,” he said. “You’re putting on the performance of a lifetime. Like you’re enjoying yourself, like you’re not constantly terrified of having your cover blown, like you might honestly wanna play a role like Romeo someday, or any role at all!” He squeezed Sam’s shoulder. “You make it seem like you belong, even though you _don’t_.”

“.....”

“Don’t you get it, Sammy? The best actor in the world _isn’t_ the best actor in the world, he just seems like he is. And you? You might just be the second best actor in that room.”

For a long time, the only sounds were of their breathing, along with the occasional bird call.

Felix shoved his free hand in the supply bag and pulled out another piece of candy, offering it to Sam.

He stared down at it, lost in thought.

Felix might not be typical best friend material, but Sam clearly wasn’t typical acting material.

And yet, there they were.

 

* * *

 

By the time Felix left and Sam walked back into his house, they hadn’t managed to study any more than they already had prior to their little episode.

Well, Sam’s little episode.

Felix had been fine. He always was.

Luckily, they’d already covered most of the chapter. What little was left was insignificant enough to skip over while still passing the test.

Not that Sam would ever do that, but Felix might.

Sam shuffled off to his room, and as expected, ran into his mother along the way. After reassuring her that he was alright and that the utterly exhausted look in his eyes was merely the result of an intense study session and nothing more, he entered his room and flopped onto the bed.

Immediately, he was fast asleep.

 

* * *

 

**_My best friend’s name is_** **Felix** ** _!_**

**_We met when:_**

**** **** ******Drama  
**

**_Our favorite thing to do together is:_**

**** **** ******Study  
**


	17. Season 1, Episode 16

“Does your mom hate me yet?”

Sam tilted his head. “Why would she hate you?”

Felix laughed. “Gee, I dunno, maybe the fact that you spent a whole day out in the woods with me and at the end of it came back looking like your pet had died? Just a thought,” he said with a shrug.

Ah. Yes, that had been somewhat of a problem once Sam awoke from his impromptu nap. Fortunately, as Felix had so thoroughly pointed out, Sam had no actual acting ability aside from pretending that he aspired to one day have some. Taking that into consideration, it came as no surprise that his mother had quickly believed him when he reiterated again and again that Felix had nothing to do with his disheartened state.

It was just something he’d brought on himself, as he so often did.

“She knows you had nothing to do with it.”

Felix squinted at him but said nothing more on the topic, instead asking, “What about history? We didn’t exactly finish the chapter. Am I gonna be able to pass with the stuff we covered?”

Sam nodded.

“Hmm. Guess I can’t complain too much, then.”

“A real shame,” Sam contributed.

 

* * *

 

He spent the entirety of lunch contemplating what to do about Felix.

Not that there was anything to do, but... He had to do _something_ , didn’t he?

At least it seemed like he did. Why it seemed that way, he wasn’t sure. It might be easier to figure out if he could properly organize his thoughts, rather than letting them freely roam and clash across the recesses of his mind.

Was that why people had confidants? He imagined sorting out his thoughts would be infinitely easier if he had someone to keep him on track.

But who?

Definitely not Felix, but the fact that he was the first possibility to spring forth only reinforced the idea that Sam ought to figure out what to _do_ about him.

As for alternate possibilities, the only other people Sam was remotely close to—both in terms of physical and emotional distance—were Megan and Mason, not counting his immediate family.

Though he loved his parents, there were some things he didn’t feel like discussing with them. Namely, this thing. Why? He had no idea, again reinforcing the fact that he had to _figure it out_.

He stared out at where Megan and Mason sat.

Felix’s lunch table.

The sight posed a new problem: If he confided in them, there was a chance that they’d tell Felix.

Tell him what, Sam _didn’t know_.

Still, the temptation to confide in them was strong.

He’d have to consider his options further.

 

* * *

 

“Alright,” Felix said as class began. “We’ve got a lot of stuff to do this week, but if we stay focused and do everything we’re supposed to, our performances next week should go fine.”

He gestured behind himself and continued, “We’ll be doing most of our work backstage. Digging out props, trying on outfits, so on and so forth. I want a full dress rehearsal by Wednesday. Thursday at the absolute latest.”

He gave them all a stern look, prompting some nervous murmuring to break out, then clapped his hands and instantly had everyone’s full attention again.

“There’s no time to lose, so let’s get backstage and do this.”

 

* * *

 

The rest of class was spent on directors claiming props for their scenes and actors modelling potential costumes.

“We wanna keep it simple,” Felix said to Sam and Julie. “No fancy props or outfits. Nothing to distract the audience from your performances. I’m thinking something classy... Julie, go find something that fits the character. Sammy, you’re with me.”

Sam watched Julie run off with her face set in determination.

“Are you trying to get rid of her?” he asked once she was far away enough.

The quirk of an eyebrow complemented Felix’s self-satisfied smirk. “Try? I _did_. But no, I just trust her to dress herself is all.”

Sam tilted his head and considered the implication that Felix didn’t trust him with the same task.

As if reading his mind, Felix asked, “You got any dad clothes?”

“What are ‘dad clothes’?”

“I dunno, stuff your dad would wear.”

“That’s a very broad category.”

Felix crossed his arms and sighed. “Alright, good thing we’ve probably got what we need back here,” he said, casting his eyes towards the nearest clothing racks. “Now where’s that outfit from last year...”

 

* * *

 

As if rewarding them for putting up with mind-numbing lessons on the human body’s capacity for exercise, their return to the gym was punctuated by entry to a previously forbidden area: The exercise room.

A couple treadmills, some dumbbells, and various types of benches were scattered across it. After a long-winded lecture on using the equipment properly, they were instructed to spend what remained of the hour on exercising.

Felix immediately headed for the treadmills, muttering something about walking being one of the only decent types of exercise.

Meanwhile, Sam busied himself with the dumbbells and felt Felix’s eyes on him the whole time.

 

* * *

 

Felix agreed to fill out the history worksheet if Sam provided him with some notes on the content they hadn’t managed to cover during their study session.

Sam obliged, yet again beset by the question of what to do about Felix.

 

* * *

 

He silently ate his lunch as Megan and Mason talked, brooding over whether to entrust them with his problems—were they problems?—or forever hold his peace.

Maybe he could entrust just one of them?

But which one?

“Hey, you okay?” Mason asked.

Sam blinked and nodded.

“Yeah? You looked kind of lost there.”

“...I’m fine,” Sam said, taking a bite out of his sandwich and watching as Mason resumed his conversation with Megan.

_Which one?_

 

* * *

 

Felix took to the stage as soon as the bell rang. “Couple announcements to make,” he said. “Right now, Ms. Green’s passing around a sheet with all your names. We’re finalizing the cast list, and we’d like to make sure you’re credited how you wanna be.”

Sam glanced over to where the name sheet was currently held by one of the third-years.

“If you’re happy with your name as it is, just put a check mark next to it,” Felix said. “If you’re not, then write what you’d like to be credited as. _Within reason_. Don’t get us in trouble with the school.”

A few chuckles sounded out as the name sheet started making its way through people’s hands.

Felix went on, “With that out of the way, I’d also like to talk about our showtimes. Ms. Green’s also passing out permission slips, and you’re gonna want to keep those safe, because they’re your ‘get out of jail free’ cards. Remember, we’re performing during school hours, so you’ll miss a couple classes. Make sure you give those permission slips to your first and second period teachers before next week.”

Sam received the paper Ms. Green handed him and looked it over. It had two permission slips, one for each teacher. He skimmed over one of the blurbs.

“You’ll notice your permission slips say what times, and what _days_ , you’ll be performing. That’s right,” Felix said with a grin, “we’re performing multiple days. On at least one of those, the elementary school’s bringing some classes in. Maybe Friday? I dunno. Either way, you’re free to invite as many friends and family as you want on any of those days.”

He paused, then added, “Again, _within reason_.”

One of the third-years coughed.

“Anyway,” Felix said, “finish filling out your names on that sheet. Whoever gets it last, turn it in to either me or Ms. Green. Now, let’s get everything ready for next week!”

 

* * *

 

Sam got the name sheet last.

‘ ** _Gates,_ ████** _’_ read the spot beside where Felix had penned in his name.

Well, not his given name, if the scribbled out spot was anything to go by. Sam stared at it curiously.

“Sammy, hurry up!” Felix called. “I wanna get you and Julie doing the scene at least once today.”

Sam looked back down at the sheet.

He checked off on his own name and turned it in to Ms. Green.

 

* * *

 

“I think we’re good to go for next week,” Felix said, strolling towards the gym. “You gonna invite your parents to watch?”

Sam had been contemplating whether or not he should, but hearing Felix so casually suggest it had him nodding definitively.

“I think so,” he said. “But I don’t know which day would be best. Knowing them, they might try to make all three.”

Felix breathed out a laugh. “I barely know them, but yeah, that sounds about right,” he said.

 

* * *

 

Sure enough, his parents asked if they could attend all three performances.

Sam confirmed that yes, they could.

 

* * *

 

He found himself wondering about his confidant-to-be, as well as debating if he should have one in the first place.

A confidant would help settle the debate, as well as render it pointless by their mere existence.

 

* * *

 

He spent lunch contemplating various topics.

Most of his time was dedicated to the question of who his confidant should be. The choice was between Megan and Mason, and halfway through lunch, Sam decided to go by chronology: Mason had approached him first, so he’d return the favor now.

Having settled that, he moved on to his next topic of choice, which was the general question of what his parents would think of his performance next week. It would be their first time watching one of his drama-related projects, and he wasn’t entirely sure what reaction he anticipated.

The third topic, much less prominent than the first two but no less present, was Felix’s mysterious first name. It wasn’t something Sam was deathly curious to know, though he was very close.

But no, what truly ate away at him was why Felix had so thoroughly disowned that name in the first place.

It couldn’t be that bad, could it?

 

* * *

 

They managed to get through the first half of the groups and Felix declared they’d do the second half the next day, reserving the very last day for finalizing everything before the weekend.

Sam didn’t know if his performance would be up to par with Julie’s, or even any of his peers’, but he couldn’t worry about that anymore.

He’d simply have to try his best.

 

* * *

 

“By the way, am I coming over again next week?” Felix asked.

Ah, right.

Felix smiled knowingly. “You have to ask again, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

 

* * *

 

Sam steeled himself.

It was time.

He’d ask Mason to be his confidant.

He looked up from his nearly completed worksheet and said, “I’ve been wondering something.”

“Yeah?” Mason glanced at him, still immersed in looking through the textbook. “Wondering what?”

Sam wondered how best to phrase it, then promptly realized he had no idea what he was trying to ask in the first place. He apparently stayed silent too long, drawing Mason’s attention away from the textbook.

“Sam?” he asked.

“...I think I have a problem.”

There was a pause, and then Mason guessed, “Does it have to do with Felix?”

“Yes...”

Mason sighed. “I’d be happy to help, but if it’s about what I think it is, then we both know I’m not the best person for the job.”

Sam tilted his head and asked, “What do you think it’s about?”

Mason stared at him. “Yeah, definitely not the right person,” he said.

 

* * *

 

According to Mason, the right person was, if not Megan, then at least similar enough to her that she would suffice.

Sam waited until they were on their way to literature before saying, “I have a problem.”

“Is the problem Felix?” she asked.

“Yes...”

“It always is,” she said with a shrug.

He tried again, “I need some help.”

“On what to do about Felix?”

“Yes.”

Megan sighed. “Did Mason tell you to ask me?”

Sam nodded.

“Figures. The only reason I’d be any better at it than him is because I’ve known Felix longer, and that’s a vague correlation at best,” she said, then grabbed Sam’s arm and pulled him into a small alcove not far from their literature class. “I can’t promise that I’ll actually be able to help, but hey, I can at least try.”

“Then...?”

She scribbled down something on one of her notebooks, then tore the page out and offered it to him. “Here, it’s my number.”

He tucked the page into his bag.

“Call me when you wanna talk. If I’m not there, just leave a message and I’ll get back to you when I can. Sound good?”

“Yes,” he said, not knowing if he’d call her.

But it was nice to have the option.

 

* * *

 

The day’s rehearsal went well, and going by the lack of judgmental looks, Sam was managing to hold his own.

At least, he hoped so.

Or maybe theatre kids were too nice to say anything.

 

* * *

 

Sam flipped through the friend journal until he found a page asking for his friend’s phone numbers.

He wrote in Megan’s, then wondered if he should ask for Felix’s.

 

* * *

 

Another Friday, another history test.

The rest of the day went by equally predictably, including the last minute preparations in the auditorium.

“So remember, next week you're coming straight here,” Felix told them all as the hour drew to a close. “We won’t wait for you. If you’re late, you’re late. After we finish, you’ll have a couple minutes to hang out with the audience or whoever, and then you’re gonna head to your third period classes and spend the rest of the day like normal. Got it?”

Scattered affirmations from everyone.

“Perfect,” Felix declared.

 

* * *

 

The exercise room was abandoned in favor of another round of interim reports.

As usual, Sam and Felix took a seat on one side of the gym while they waited for their names to be called. All the while, Felix rambled on about the performances next week and Sam tried his best to pay attention.

Finally, Felix paused for long enough that Sam blurted out, “Can I have your phone number?”

Felix’s already present grin intensified. “Why, of course,” he said, then held out his hand.

Sam stared at it in confusion.

Felix wiggled his fingers.

Sam looked back up at him.

“Your _hand_ ,” Felix elaborated. “Give it.”

Sam hesitantly held up his hand but Felix made no move to grab it. Slowly, Sam placed it against Felix’s expectant fingers, which immediately closed around it like a vise. Felix turned Sam’s palm upwards, then conjured a pen from somewhere and began writing directly onto it.

“There,” he said, letting it go. “Use it wisely.”

Sam pulled his hand back and examined his palm. Sure enough, a phone number now decorated its skin.

The teacher’s call of “Gates!” interrupted them, and off Felix went to collect his interim report. Sam continued staring down at his hand, already committing the number to memory.

Felix’s return was signaled by the heavy thud of him flopping down next to Sam again, envelope open and report out.

“Hey, this isn’t half bad. Like, at all. Definitely a way better history grade than I had.”

Sam peered at the grade, then belatedly realized that the report was bound to have Felix’s full name. His eyes darted around in search of it before he could reconsider, but Felix quickly folded up the report and slid it into one of his notebooks.

Sam wasn’t sure whether he was disappointed or not.

“What about you, Sammy? Still having algebra troubles? Need a tutor?”

Sam scowled. “Even if I did, I doubt you’d provide the help I needed.”

Felix placed a hand over his chest and gasped. “Are you implying I’m shit at math?” he asked.

The call of Sam’s name spared him from answering. He left to pick up his report, and as soon as he returned to his seat, Felix piped up, “So who’s more shit at math?”

Sam frowned but opened the envelope.

All passing grades, like always. Algebra the lowest again, but not by much.

Still, it was enough to have Felix leaning back and staring at him triumphantly.

“...Be quiet,” Sam said.

“Sure thing, Sammy.”


	18. Season 1, Episode 17

Sam parked his car and headed towards the school.

After less than a minute of waiting outside the front office, his parents walked over from the guest parking lot.

“Okay, here we are,” his father cheerfully announced. “Where do we go?”

“Over here,” Sam said, turning on his heel and leading them to the auditorium.

The three of them entered it, immediately spotting the small crowd of fellow theatre kids and their guests. A couple of them waved at Sam and he waved back.

“Hey, this is really nice,” his mother commented, looking out over the rows of seats and stage with its closed curtain. “Here’s where you have the class?”

“Sometimes,” Sam said.

His mother made a noise of understanding and continued looking around.

“Oh, Mr. and Mrs. Ortez, hi!”

Their attention was drawn back as Felix’s voice called out, and within seconds, he’d materialized out of nowhere, holding his hand out.

“Felix! Hello,” Sam’s mother said, accepting the hand with a smile. “How are you?”

“Me? I’m just dandy,” Felix said, offering his hand to Sam’s father. “How about you lovely folks?”

“We’re great,” Sam’s father replied, shaking Felix’s hand. ”We’re looking forward to seeing the show.”

Felix grinned. “Ah, yes. We should be starting pretty soon, actually,” he remarked, eyebrows raising as if he’d only just remembered the clock was ticking. “We’ve got some cast pamphlets over there, feel free to take a couple and sit wherever you’d like. C’mon, Sammy.”

Sam let himself be pulled towards the stage even as he distantly heard his mother commenting, “Did you hear how he called him ‘Sammy’?”

He was too far away to hear his father’s reply.

“Alright,” Felix was saying, “get backstage and get ready. I think Julie showed up while we were talking, so go meet up with her and make sure you’re both on the same page. Your scene’s last so you’ve got plenty of time, but still, be ready.”

Sam nodded and Felix unceremoniously shoved him the last few feet towards the stage. Obediently, Sam went up the steps and headed towards the wings, glancing back one final time before disappearing into them.

His parents both gave him two thumbs-up from their seats. Sam offered them a wave and smile, then hurried off to get ready.

 

* * *

 

Given that Sam’s costume consisted of a simple hat and jacket, he was ready in a matter of minutes, which was both a blessing and a curse.

The following hour was spent with his insides twisted into a bundle of nerves. Interestingly, not the bad kind, something Sam hadn’t known was possible. Instead, it was something more akin to anticipation, but with the same tension and jitters that accompanied nervousness.

He solemnly sat backstage, the muffled sounds of others’ performances being his only distraction. Julie sat nearby, staring into the distance and looking just as restless as he felt. Every once in a while, Felix would stride past, consulting with different directors and helping change out props between scenes.

Each performance was preceded by its director presenting it, so when Felix himself took to the stage, Sam and Julie got into position behind the curtain and waited.

“...Without further ado, I’d like to present our final scene. Enjoy!”

The curtains parted and the show began.

 

* * *

 

“Sami, you were marvelous!” his mother praised him.

“Incredible!” his father added.

Sam couldn’t contain his smile. “You think so?”

“Of course,” his father said. “You really surprised us!”

His mother said nothing, seemingly content to grin in silent appreciation.

“He was great, wasn’t he?” Felix asked, sidling up to them. “I keep telling him he’s got something!”

Sam squinted at him, but desisted from refuting his claim.

“You directed him?” Sam’s father asked Felix.

“That’s right,” Felix said, his stance somehow exuding more self-satisfaction than usual.

“Wow,” both Sam’s parents breathed.

“You did a great job,” his father said. “The entire scene was very well done.”

His mother nodded her head along in agreement.

“Aww, shucks. I’m glad you liked it, but I really couldn’t have done it without my two amazing actors,” Felix said, wrapping a hand around Sam’s shoulders and pulling him close. “Speaking of which, I should probably go and talk with Julie’s folks.”

He extricated his arm from around Sam and stepped back.

“It was lovely seeing you two again, until next time!” he said, politely inclining his head and walking off in Julie’s direction.

The words triggered Sam’s memory and he turned towards his parents and asked, “Can he come over again?”

 

* * *

 

Sam was nearly finished with his lunch when Felix dropped into the seat across from him.

Despite his confusion, Sam decided it was best to announce before he forgot, “You can come over on Saturday.”

Felix’s pleasantly surprised look lasted for mere seconds before giving way to one of suspicion. “You only just asked, didn’t you?”

Sam said nothing, but his silence was confirmation enough.

Felix shook his head in disbelief but chose to leave the matter be. “Am I in your mom’s good books now?” he asked instead.

Sam gave the barest hint of a shrug. “I don’t know why you think she dislikes you so much.”

“Well, maybe not anymore,” Felix said, casually leaning back in his seat. “I think I’m wearing her down. Guess drawing you out of your shell got me major points.”

Sam was inclined to agree with Felix’s theory, even if not his overall assessment.

“Anyway, I came to tell you that I’m pretty sure Julie’s grandma wants you two to date.”

“...What.”

Felix’s grin was ecstatic. “I know, right? Can you imagine? No offense, but Julie could do better than you. She’s a proper actress, after all,” he said, a note of pompousness in his tone at the very end.

Sam frowned.

“Hey, I said ‘no offense’, didn’t I?”

“I’m not offended,” Sam said, unsure how to explain why he found the idea of dating Julie so disconcerting.

Felix watched him, gaze intense.

The silence stretched on.

“Can I look forward to having some star-crossed lovers in my class?” Felix prompted.

“No,” Sam immediately replied.

Felix watched him a moment more, then simply said, “Good.”

With that, he stood up and returned to his table, leaving Sam to wonder if a call to Megan might be in order after all.

 

* * *

 

Drama took place as always, except that it occurred in the classroom like it used to.

The hour was mostly devoted to everyone congratulating each other on a job well done, with directors praising their actors as well as those from the other scenes they’d managed to see.

Felix, having been preoccupied with keeping everything running backstage, hadn’t been able to see any of the scenes, but that garnered him praise nonetheless. Nearly everyone chorused out their thanks to him for his hard work, and like the egoist he was, he stood at the front of the room and soaked it all up like a sponge.

Sam couldn’t bring himself to find it quite as annoying as he once had.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the week went by in a blur of performances.

As expected, Sam’s parents came to every single one of them, even the one where several groups from the elementary school filled up most of the seating.

After the second show, Sam took the opportunity to point out Megan and Mason to them, at which point they instantly made their way over for some introductions and a short conversation.

After the third show, they'd seen the whole thing enough times to start giving more detailed opinions.

After _every_ show, his parents congratulated him, and like clockwork, Felix would turn up to throw in his two cents— more often than not, even more congratulations.

Sam couldn’t help thinking that Felix was right.

His mother _was_ warming up to him.

 

* * *

 

**_Is there anything you’d change about your best friend? Why or why not?_**

**** **** ******He’s always right.**

 

* * *

 

“If you were a serial killer, what would your name be?”

“What?” Sam asked, setting his history textbook aside. Among all of Felix’s study break prompts, this had to be his strangest, including the time he’d asked for Sam’s porn name.

“C’mon, humor me. Serial killer name.”

Sam tried to give the question serious thought, but hadn’t the faintest idea of where to start. Were there certain guidelines to follow, or was it completely up to personal preference? What was the criteria for a worthwhile serial killer name?

“I don’t know,” he said. “What about yours?”

Felix hummed pensievely. “I think I’d stick with ‘Felix’. It’s got personality, don’t you think?”

Sam was reminded of his curiosity for Felix’s actual name. Deciding there was no harm in asking, he did exactly that, albeit in a roundabout way.

“You chose that name yourself, didn’t you?”

“I did.”

“Why?”

Felix scoffed. “Sammy, some things are better left forgotten. And on the topic of forgotten things”—he reached for Sam’s textbook and flipped it open—“where were we?”

 

* * *

 

“Isn’t it too cold to be studying out here?”

Sam frowned. “Not particularly,” he said.

“What?” Felix asked, shivering abruptly. “Are you seriously not cold?”

“Only a little, but we can head inside if you need to.”

Felix shivered again. “What I _need_ is some fucking heat. Don’t you have a tent heater?”

Sam shook his head.

“ _Unbelievable_. Fine, I’ll get you one. When’s your birthday?”

“Last month.”

Felix’s eyes widened. “And you didn’t tell me!?”

“There’s a lot of things I don’t tell you.”

“Wow, Sammy. I can’t believe you’re gonna have to go a whole year freezing to death now.”

“Unfortunate, but I did tell you we could go in,” Sam reminded.

Felix vehemently shook his head. “No, I can do this, fucking watch me.”

 

* * *

 

Sam looked up from his notes and asked, “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go in?”

“No way,” Felix gritted out. “I’m _fine_.”

Sam sighed. If Felix was so set on staying in the tent, there would be no changing his mind. Still, Sam wondered if he could help somehow. Though he could run inside to dig up a blanket, he doubted Felix would accept it without a fuss, much less accept being left alone in the first place.

“Well? Keep going,” Felix said, nodding towards Sam’s notes.

“Hold on,” Sam replied, an idea occurring to him. It wasn’t a solution by any means, but it should help. In fact, he wondered why they hadn’t already done it.

He set his notes aside and leaned across the tent, over Felix, and reached for the tent flap. Within seconds, he was zipping it closed and sitting back. At the very least, that should conserve their body heat better than before.

Felix stared at the closed flap.

“Huh. That works.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Sammy?”

“Yes?”

“Still breathing right?”

Ah. So they were doing _that_ again.

“Yes,” Sam confirmed.

Without preamble, Felix pressed himself closer and laid a hand on Sam’s stomach. “Show me,” he said.

It was difficult to breathe _right_ —or even _at all_ —with Felix so suddenly invading his personal space. Regardless, Sam gave it his best effort, taking steady breaths and feeling his stomach intermittently push against Felix’s hand.

“Good job,” Felix said after a long moment, keeping his hand in place. “Also, you’re really warm.”

“...Thank you?”

Felix said nothing more, but slowly drew his hand back, letting it drag across Sam’s stomach until it slid off completely. Sam stayed still, tracking Felix’s movements with his eyes, but no more were forthcoming.

Felix then gave an exaggerated shiver and burrowed his head against Sam’s shoulder, curling in on himself.

Sam continued to stay still, wrapped up in assessing the situation.

“Would you ever date Julie?” came Felix’s muffled voice.

“I don’t know.”

Felix snorted quietly. “You never know anything. Is there something you _do_ know?”

There were several things Sam could say, but only a few sprung to mind.

That Felix was always right.

That he was better at math than Sam.

That he was quickly winning over both Sam’s parents.

That, that, that—

“That you’re my best friend.”

He felt Felix tense against him.

Sam remained still, waiting for Felix’s reply.

When it came, it was in the form of a softly murmured, “You’ve got good taste, Sammy.”

 

* * *

 

They finished covering the rest of the history notes just as it was time for Felix to leave. He casually pulled away, threw out an equally casual goodbye, and left Sam standing in his backyard, utterly perplexed.

How they finished studying, Sam had no idea, as he’d been utterly lost in his own thoughts ever since Felix cuddled up to him. He didn’t want to flatter himself, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that Felix’s apparent obsession was strengthening by the day.

Sam didn’t know how to feel about that.

He didn’t know what to _do_ about Felix.

The possibility of calling Megan sprung to mind, but what would he say?

‘Felix seems jealous of Julie’? ‘He keeps touching me’? ‘We may have cuddled’?

No, it was better to leave Megan out of it altogether, at least until Sam singled out a specific thing to ask for her opinion on.

 

* * *

 

He lay awake entirely too long, thoughts consistently returning to the topic of Felix.

At first, the thoughts were just memories, replays of the day’s events. Then they were speculation, overanalyses of words and actions. Finally, they were something else altogether, twisted and distorted and fascinating.

Instead of sleeping, Sam lay in bed and wondered what it would be like to touch Felix back.

Would Felix accept it? Would he pull away and create some distance between them, or would he lean into Sam’s hands, wordlessly inviting him to keep going?

Keep going where?

Sam didn’t know.

But he wanted to find out.

He thought about Felix’s pointed face and lithe frame, and his voice that could be so commanding and arrogant, yet still capable of a hidden softness.

He thought about running his hands over that frame, watching the expressions on that face, hearing the hitch of breath in that voice.

He thought about so many things, until he thought he ran out of things to think about, and then he thought about some more.

Eventually, he felt an ache begin to overtake him, and was forced to accept that he wouldn’t be sleeping any time soon. At least, not until he’d dealt with his body’s response to all those thoughts.

He brought his hands to his torso, dragging them back and forth, letting them settle on his stomach and feeling his even breaths push against them. He used one to hike up his shirt and moved the other one lower, past his waistband, right to where his body was straining most.

Normally, he couldn’t concentrate well enough to maintain a fantasy, but this time it was hard to think of anything else.

He imagined his hand was Felix’s, gently wrapping those long fingers around him, squeezing, getting a feel for him, then stroking. Up and down, up and down, teasing him, always teasing. It was what he did best, after all. Teasing and taunting and being a nuisance.

Sam stroked faster, his other hand running over his torso, its fingers a poor imitation of Felix’s but pleasurable nonetheless.

He wondered if Felix had similar thoughts, if he’d ever masturbated while fantasizing about Sam.

What would Felix’s fantasies be like? Would he solely envision Sam, or would there be some unique twist? Was Felix interested in him as he normally was, or were there situations that enhanced Felix’s interest?

Maybe when Sam performed?

No, not quite.

Maybe when he was being directed.

When Felix was telling him what to do, how to do it, how to act.

When Felix ordered him around.

Sam bit his lip and jerked himself as fast as he could, his other hand crossed over his torso as if to hold him in place. His muscles tensed and his hips thrust up of their own volition, and then he was orgasming— into his hand, against the sheets, onto himself.

A wave of exhaustion immediately crashed over him and he barely managed to fumble out some tissues. He cleaned himself off, tossed them in the general direction of his trash bin, and practically lost consciousness.


	19. Season 1, Episode 18

Sam walked into school feeling simultaneously refreshed and more confused than ever before.

He carefully avoided Felix’s gaze all throughout history, and as soon as the bell rang, darted out of the room and down the hall.

In biology, the teacher handed out worksheets, instructing everyone to fill them in with help from the documentary she’d brought along. It was a simple assignment that kept Sam’s mind occupied for the rest of the hour.

Mason began heading towards him when class ended, but Sam immediately took off in the cafeteria’s direction. Thankfully, Mason seemed to get the hint and made no subsequent attempts to catch up with him during lunch.

Megan was another story altogether.

“So I hear you’re being weird again,” she said by way of greeting.

Sam put his sandwich down. “It’s complicated.”

She expectantly raised her eyebrows.

Sam deliberated on what to say, then decided he’d deliberated long enough.

It was time to take action.

“I don’t know if Felix and I are friends.”

Her eyebrows tilted in disbelief.

“Or something else,” he elaborated.

“Ah,” was all she said.

Sam took another bite of his sandwich while she watched him. Neither of them spoke, and Sam turned his eyes to Felix’s table, where he was talking just as animatedly as ever.

“Does it matter?” Megan asked, drawing Sam’s attention back to her.

He tilted his head.

She gestured vaguely. “Not knowing what you are. Is it a problem?”

“Not particularly,” he said. He paused to consider his answer further and added, “But I want to know. That’s the problem.”

She hummed in understanding, then a few seconds later snapped, “Okay, no. I’m getting Mason for this. Be back in a second.”

Sam stared after her as she headed straight for Felix’s table and leaned in close to Mason, whispering into his ear. A split-second later, Felix turned to look straight at Sam.

Before he could think better of it, Sam whipped his eyes away and promptly cursed himself for relentlessly making things awkward despite his best efforts to the contrary.

He looked back up at the sound of Megan and Mason settling into their usual seats. Mason wore a distinctly apologetic expression, but Megan looked more determined than ever, as if the two of them together could hope to resolve all of Sam’s problems.

If only that were the case.

Megan had only just opened her mouth when she glanced to the side and anything she’d been about to say seemed to die in her throat. Mason gave her a curious look, tracking her line of sight until his eyes went wide.

Sam did the same and, to both his exasperation and embarrassment, there came Felix, leaving his own table behind to follow in Megan and Mason’s footsteps. He slid into the seat beside Sam and casually asked the three of them, “How’s it going?”

“...Fine,” Megan replied, eyes darting back and forth between him and Sam. Apparently making a decision, she stood from the table and Mason instantly mirrored her. She cleared her throat and said, “Well, see you later!”

Then they both left Sam to his fate.

He couldn’t blame them.

Felix’s hand reached over and stole one of Sam’s crackers. “So what was that all about?” he asked.

The temptation to say ‘nothing’ was stronger than ever, but Sam knew he’d never resolve anything if he continued on that route. That still left the question of how to address things without increasing the awkwardness levels until they inevitably exploded into...

Into what, he didn’t know, and wasn’t sure he wanted to.

He was taking too long to answer and he knew it, but surprisingly, Felix didn’t urge him for a response— though that may have had more to do with the fact that he’d continued stealing Sam’s crackers rather than any actual show of consideration.

Sam thought and thought, steadily realizing that he’d effectively backed himself into a corner. He couldn’t pretend there wasn’t anything bothering him, but the mere idea of admitting what he’d done was enough to make him start sweating. There was no way forward.

Unless...

Maybe there was a third option.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said.

Felix’s eyebrows lowered in annoyance, but then he shrugged. “Whatever. Just quit running away.”

“Alright.”

 

* * *

 

“Did your problem get fixed?” asked Megan as she caught up to Sam.

“No. It’s fine though.”

“Is it?”

He sighed. “...Yes...”

“You don’t sound too sure,” she commented.

“I’m not,” he said. “But I have to be.”

 

* * *

 

Sam turned in his literature essay and spent the rest of class staring at the assigned reading.

He decided he was being ridiculous. There was only so long a person could dwell on the same exact thoughts before moving on to something else.

Try as he might, his brain didn’t seem to get the memo.

It was almost a relief when class ended.

 

* * *

 

Given that their performances last week had counted as their final exam for the semester, there was nothing left for them to study in drama. As such, Felix announced they’d be spending the entire week watching scenes from various plays that had been adapted into movies, musicals included.

There was much rejoicing.

The room’s mood was relaxed and carefree. The lights were turned off to enhance the screen’s visibility, and despite it technically being a full-fledged lesson, any semblance of actual learning was cast aside in favor of simply enjoying an hour of movie clips.

Every now and then Felix would pipe up with facts about the scene they were watching, pointing out specific aspects of the performances and generally being the one thing keeping the class from devolving into a jumbled mess of private conversations.

Sam was disappointed once the bell rang and the lights were flicked back on.

 

* * *

 

“I talked with Ms. Green and she agreed to bring in popcorn on Friday. It’s gonna be great.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “If you suggested it, shouldn’t you bring it in?”

“Hmph, as if. I’ve been carrying this whole class, the least she can do is bring in popcorn.”

Well, he wasn’t _wrong_.

Then again, Sam supposed Felix never was.

 

* * *

 

Physical education saw them undergo another round of fitness assessments, repeating the examinations from the start of the school year.

They were to start off with laps outside, despite the cold weather.

As before, the majority of the class was content to walk the three laps, with only a few choosing to get a head start by running. Those few quickly expended all their energy and resorted to walking the rest of the laps, shivering like everyone else.

By contrast, Sam paced himself and maintained a steady jog. His blood pumped and his body steadily warmed up, warding off the cold as he went. Each time he approached Felix, he got a stuttering “h- h- hi, Sammy”, soon followed by a “b- b- bye, Sammy” when he passed.

In a matter of minutes, he’d completed all three laps and proceeded to go through some cooldown exercises, taking the opportunity to people-watch.

His eyes inevitably found their way back to Felix time and time again, no matter how often he aimed them elsewhere.

 

* * *

 

"Sami, are you okay?" his mother asked. "I’ve noticed you a little distracted these past days."

"...I’m fine."

"Yeah?"

Sam nodded.

His mother hummed. "Okay. And how are your friends?"

"Fine."

"Felix too?"

"Yes."

"Does he have plans for the break?"

"I don’t know."

She tilted her head. "He hasn’t told you?"

Sam shrugged.

His mother stared at him and he tried his best to maintain eye contact.

After an agonizingly long moment, she gave a shrug of her own and dropped the line of questioning.

 

* * *

 

The history teacher announced that the week’s test would be a special case: If their grade on it was higher than their current average, it would replace it. If not, it would be just another test to factor into that average.

According to her, it was a way to preemptively lessen the blow that their grades would receive after next week’s final exam.

She proceeded to hand out the usual worksheets, and Felix instantly moved to sit at Sam’s side.

Sam attempted to keep his eyes on the assignment, to varying levels of success.

 

* * *

 

Biology was taken up by the documentary again, with the teacher insisting that they’d be able to finish it off tomorrow. The bell rang, and Mason headed for Sam.

This time, Sam stayed put.

They began their walk towards the cafeteria and Mason spoke up, “Hey, so Megan’s been throwing around the idea of having some sort of get-together over break. She’s not sure yet, but I guess it mostly depends on how many people would go.”

Sam said nothing.

“Would you be interested?” Mason asked.

Sam thought about it. A get-together at Megan’s house? It was hard to imagine, considering that he didn’t even have the vaguest idea what Megan’s house was like. Setting the house issue aside, who else would be there? Her family? Sam knew nothing about them. And guests? If _he_ was being invited, the bar couldn’t be set very high.

He knew Megan considered him a friend, but he could only be one of many, and he doubted he was particularly notable among them all.

“Yes,” he finally answered. After all, the question was whether he was interested, not whether he’d _go_.

“Great,” Mason said, beaming at him. “Megan can tell you more.”

Sure enough, she did.

The majority of their lunch was spent on her discussing plans for the party—that was what she called it, a _party_ , not a get-together—as well as scribbling down her address for him. According to her, she’d have the house to herself the whole night, and yes, she assured him that she’d been given permission to invite some friends over.

“You really don’t like getting into trouble, do you?” she asked with an amused smile.

“Rules are rules,” he replied.

Megan’s smile turned slightly condescending but she moved on, listing off the people she was planning on inviting. Unsurprisingly, the list included Felix, as well as several others from drama.

“It’ll probably be on that last Saturday before the end of the month,” she said. “Most people should be free around then. Think you can make it?”

Sam stared down at the address she’d given him.

“I’ll consider it.”

 

* * *

 

Drama was once again spent on watching clips from movies, this time with a focus on the musicals.

In addition, Felix announced that everyone could bring in their own movies to show clips from, so long as they wrote half a page justifying their decision. As a bonus, it would also count as extra credit.

Sam was fairly certain that no one in the class was in need of a grade boost, but he doubted people wouldn’t use it as an excuse to bring in their favorite movies anyway.

 

* * *

 

“Did Megan invite you to her party yet?”

“Yes.”

“And?” Felix asked. “You planning on going?”

“I haven’t decided,” Sam said.

“Dude, you’ve gotta! Megan’s parties are fan-fucking-tastic.”

Sam’s apprehension must have been evident, because Felix immediately backtracked.

“You know, in general. If you like socializing, she’s got that covered, but if you’re you and just wanna sit in a corner and look upset, you can do that too,” he said.

“I do _not_.”

Felix held up his hands. “Hey, just saying. I can’t imagine you as a party animal _at all_. When’s the last time you even went to one?”

“Last year.”

“And did you let your hair down for once?”

“Somewhat.”

“Oh?” Felix asked, curiosity shining in his eyes. “Do tell.”

“Maybe another time,” Sam said as they entered the gym.

 

* * *

 

On the surface, attending Megan’s party didn’t seem so bad.

There would be several people Sam knew, and though the thought of her family not being present unsettled him, he trusted her to prevent any chaos from unfolding. Not that he’d mentioned that part to his parents, since he doubted they’d be as accepting of him attending a party supervised solely by a teenager, no matter how level-headed she was.

Still, the invitation was daunting. He did attend parties now and then, but those were always family affairs. The atmosphere there was loud and festive, with no shortage of people. However, since most of those people were family, it was unlikely that those parties’ atmosphere was indicative of all parties’.

Particularly teenager-left-in-charge-of-the-house parties’.

There was also the matter of Felix. Sam only ever saw him outside of school in the context of studying, but at a party? What was a partying Felix even like? Probably just as outspoken and attention-seeking as usual, but aside from that? Would he try pulling the tricks he did at their study sessions? Or even worse, would he not?

Maybe he was only ever messing with Sam when they studied. With spectators around, Felix might completely ignore him. At one point in time, Sam would’ve been grateful for that, but now?

Did he want Felix’s attention on him?

No, not exactly.

But he didn’t want to be ignored by him either.

What did Sam want?

He had no idea.

Would he attend the party?

He had absolutely no idea.

 

* * *

 

They managed to finish the documentary off, like the biology teacher had predicted.

She began going over the accompanying worksheet, slowly giving out each answer and quoting the documentary as she went.

It was safe to say that the worksheet coverage would take up the rest of the week.

 

* * *

 

Like Sam thought, a couple people brought in movies to show scenes from.

Felix skimmed over their accompanying justifications and sent Ms. Green a thumbs-up, presumably a signal to give them their extra credit.

 

* * *

 

“They invited me to a party,” Sam announced after dinner.

“Oh, really?” his mother asked, settling down on the couch. “Who invited you? Felix?”

“No, Megan. Remember that I introduced you to her at one of the shows? She was a director.”

His parents’ faces lit up in recognition.

“Yes, now I remember her! She was very friendly, no?” his mother asked his father, who nodded in agreement.

“She’s the one who invited me,” Sam said, drawing their attention back to the matter at hand. “It would be on the last Saturday of the month.”

“And do you know where it is?” his father asked.

“At her house. She gave me the address.”

His mother asked him with a hint of excitement, “So are you gonna go?”

“Can I?”

His parents shared a look, then his father asked, “Do you want to?”

Sam gave his best facial shrug.

“Who else is going?” his mother asked.

“People from drama. A couple of her friends from other classes too. Felix.”

Another shared look, then his mother sighed. “Well, if you want to go, you can, but come back before twelve, okay? And take your phone to call us when you arrive.”

 

* * *

 

He still hadn’t made up his mind by the time he sat down to have lunch with Megan and Mason.

Thankfully, neither of them asked him.

 

* * *

 

The flexibility portion of the physical education assessment began, but there was only time to assess half the class. The other half would be assessed the next day.

Sam idly watched as Felix managed to reach farther than most of the others, a victory that was somewhat undermined by the way he promptly flopped over and refused to move for the rest of the hour.

 

* * *

 

Judging by Felix’s grin, he was confident he’d done well on the history test.

Sam was glad to see it.

 

* * *

 

He walked into drama and was hit by the smell of fresh popcorn, then by the sound of excited chattering all around the room.

The hour was spent watching movie clips and eating popcorn, with everyone in higher spirits than ever before. There was even an impromptu sing-along at one point, with at least half the class perfectly reciting the lyrics to a song from one of the musicals.

It was great, like Felix had said it would be.

 

* * *

 

“Any closer to deciding whether you’ll go to Megan’s party?”

“No, but I have permission.”

Felix’s brow furrowed and a smile pulled at his mouth. “Aww, you still ask your parents for permission? That’s so sweet,” he drawled.

The reaction caught Sam off guard. Why wouldn’t he ask his parents for permission? Not to mention the worrisome implication of Felix’s words in regards to how things worked in the Gates household.

Now that Sam thought about it, he actually had no idea about anything concerning the Gates household. Who did Felix live with? For that matter, who had raised him to turn out so very _Felix?_

“What’s on your mind now?” asked Felix, breaking through his thoughts.

“.....”

“You were definitely thinking something,” Felix reiterated.

The accusatory tone brought Sam’s bedtime exploits back to the forefront of his mind. His eyes, like the traitors they were, flew to Felix’s hands.

Long, slender fingers. Sam had been right; he couldn’t hope to replicate their touch.

“...Sammy? You’re staring again.”

Sam whipped his head away and hurried into the gym.

 

* * *

 

As promised, the second half of the class took a turn reassessing their flexibility.

Sam didn’t reach quite as far as Felix had, but at least he didn’t make a spectacle of himself afterwards and instead smoothly retook his seat. He dedicated himself to relaxing for the rest of the hour.

That, and watching how much Felix used his hands to talk.

 

* * *

 

**_Best friends are best friends because they’re the best! What are the best things about your best friend?_**

**** **** ******His hands.  
**


	20. Season 1, Episode 19

Despite all his studying, Sam struggled with his algebra exam.

It wasn’t that he didn’t know the formulas; he’d memorized them like the back of his hand.

There were just _so many numbers_. How could he hope to keep track of them all amid solving long-winded proofs?

 

* * *

 

His next exam of the day went much better.

Many of the questions concerned basic history, and though the attention to detail some of them called for was extreme, Sam managed to remember nearly everything from his study sessions, both alone and with Felix.

He turned in the test with time to spare, and was pleased to see Felix follow soon after.

 

* * *

 

The biology teacher warned them to study hard, detailing how several of her earlier students had failed miserably.

Sam made a mental note to go over his biology worksheets again.

 

* * *

 

The literature teacher spent the hour covering the material they’d learned in the last few months.

“Make sure you go back over everything, you never know what’ll make it onto the test,” she said.

That wouldn’t be a problem with Sam’s memory.

 

* * *

 

It was hard to justify spending the week on more movie clips when it was all they’d done during the previous week. As such, improv made a triumphant return to the drama classroom and, since it was finals week, Felix declared that it would be on a volunteer basis.

“...For now,” he added, looking entirely too impish for Sam’s taste.

Fortunately, Felix’s words held true for the entire hour, with only volunteers heading to the front and trying their best to entertain an already captivated audience.

 

* * *

 

“Since there’s two exams a day, and since we already got our drama and gym grades, there’s no fucking point to us coming in on Wednesday.”

Sam tilted his head. “But you’ll still come?”

Felix laughed. “Are you kidding? We have Friday off and no exams on Thursday. Not having any on Wednesday is the _perfect_ excuse to get a head start on the holidays,” he gleefully announced.

The thought of two consecutive days with an absentee Felix was less than pleasant, but Sam said nothing.

 

* * *

 

“You had tests today, no?”

“Yes.”

“How did you do?” his mother asked.

Sam sighed. “I barely finished the math one on time, but I think it was alright. The history one was easy, and the rest I’ll have tomorrow.”

“Do you have to study?”

“I don’t think so, but I’m still going to review some things.”

She smiled and assured him, “It’ll go great for you.”

 

* * *

 

The algebra teacher said they would do well to get a head start on the next semester’s material, but still put on a movie for them.

No one bothered with the next semester’s material.

Not even Sam.

 

* * *

 

To what was probably no one’s surprise, the movie the history teacher brought in was about the very material they’d just been tested on.

Less expected was the teacher allowing them to switch seats, provided they didn’t start talking to each other instead of watching the movie.

Sam glanced Felix’s way.

Felix beckoned him over with a crooked finger.

Sam didn’t need to be told twice. Within seconds, he was sliding into the seat next to Felix’s.

If this was the last time he’d be able to enjoy Felix’s company until the start of the next semester, he wanted to make the most of it.

No, he hadn’t decided about the party yet.

 

* * *

 

Most of the biology exam’s questions concerned the documentary they’d spent most of the past week watching, as if to ensure they had in fact been paying attention to it.

Sam may have spent that week with Felix on his mind, but he could pay attention when he needed to.

Mostly.

 

* * *

 

“That wasn’t too bad,” Mason said on their way to the cafeteria.

“No,” Sam agreed.

“Oh, right,” Mason piped up. “I just remembered: A couple of people already said they can’t go to Megan’s thing, mostly her non-drama friends. So if that’s something you were worried about, don’t be.”

Sam found himself touched by Mason’s consideration.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

* * *

 

Lunch was spent on a mixture of topics, most notably how their exams had been treating them and what more Megan had planned for the party.

Though she did a remarkable job of not pressuring him, Sam had no doubt that if she had her way, he’d be forced to attend whether he liked it or not.

Why, he couldn’t imagine. He didn’t bring anything special to parties, and though Megan had no way of definitively knowing that, she also had no reason to think the opposite.

All the same, the steadily dwindling list of guests kept him steady on the tightrope of indecision.

 

* * *

 

Sam didn’t think the literature exam could be considered difficult by any definition of the word.

At most, it was tedious, as the few questions it had all required answers several paragraphs too long.

It was still preferable to algebra.

 

* * *

 

The improv games continued, once again on a volunteer basis.

Near the end of the hour, Felix suggested switching things up by nominating ‘volunteers’. People instantly began calling out names, mostly those of third-years who’d already participated in several games on that day alone.

“No, I’ve got something in mind,” Felix said as he stood from his seat and dragged several chairs up to the front, arranging them in an instantly recognizable pattern.

The dating game.

Felix flopped down into the solitary fourth chair and announced, “I nominate myself, Megan, Mason, and, oh, hmm. Sammy!”

Sam’s exasperation was overshadowed by the burst of nerves in his gut. He’d really only played through one improv game before, and it had supplied him with lines, which must’ve meant its classification as an improv game was in actuality a terrible oversight.

Even so, Megan and Mason were heeding Felix’s call, so nerves or not, Sam couldn’t refuse. He made his way to the front and took the only remaining chair.

“Okay, we all know how this works, so I’ll be right outside,” Felix said. “Don’t take too long.”

As soon as he was out in the hallway, the brainstorming began.

“One of them should be an animal,” suggested a newbie.

“Someone who’s been cursed into an animal form,” suggested another.

A third-year weighed in, “A parrot.”

“Or a bat.”

“Bats don’t talk!”

“ _Guys_ , he said to _hurry_.”

After a cluster of rapid-fire suggestions, their roles were assigned and Felix was called back inside.

The game was ready to begin.

“These better be good, do you have any idea how long you all took?” Felix grumbled as he reclaimed the solitary fourth seat. “Alright. Let’s start over here. Contestant One, the holidays are coming up. What’s your favorite holiday?” he asked Megan.

She, having been assigned the role of ‘a cursed bat who doesn’t like vampires’, replied in a high-pitched tone, “I have a love-hate relationship with Halloween.” Her hands flapped at her sides as if she were in the midst of flight, and she continued, “People all wanna take pictures with me, but then they ask me to change back. Pal, I would if I could!”

Felix nodded his head in sympathy. “That’s a shame. You’ve got my condolences,” he said before setting his sights on Mason. “Contestant Two, holidays mean winter break. What do you like to do on break?”

Mason, given that he was ‘a talent agent interested in everything’, enthusiastically answered, “I like to travel around, see what I can find. You’d be amazed at the things some people can do!” He looked at Megan. “Like this lovely lady right here. What was that about ‘changing back’?”

She flapped her makeshift wings faster and screeched at him.

Felix raised an eyebrow. “Fascinating,” he offered in his most deadpan voice. “And finally, Contestant Three. Breaks are the perfect time to vacation. What’s your favorite vacation spot?”

Sam wildly tried to formulate an answer. As ‘a curious alien exploring Earth’, he supposed he’d lucked out. On the other hand, he doubted just saying ‘Earth’ would be satisfactory. Hesitantly, he started out with, “Everywhere is interesting. There’s always so much to see.” He scanned his eyes over Felix and his fellow contestants. “Like all of you. What are you? I don’t know.”

Felix snorted. “You and me both, buddy. Speaking of, Contestant One! You wouldn’t happen to enjoy the taste of blood by any chance, would you?” he asked.

Megan stuck her tongue out and said, “Blood!? Whataya’ take me for, one of _them?_ Just fruits for me, thanks!”

Mason snapped to attention. “Did you say you eat nothing but fruits? We could definitely sell that act—”

“Contestant Two!” Felix interrupted. “What’s the worst act you’ve ever tried to sell?”

“There’s no bad acts, you know. People will be interested in anything, like this young man here,” Mason said, gesturing to Sam. He turned to him and asked, “By the way, you wouldn’t be interested in entering the business too, would you?”

Before Sam could answer, Felix interrupted again. “Contestant Three, did you smoke something, and if so, can you get me in touch with your dealer?”

Whereas Felix seemed to have some idea of Megan and Mason’s roles, he didn’t seem anywhere near to guessing Sam’s, which—against every sensible bone in his body—made him panic. He wasn’t _that_ bad at the game, was he?

“I have no dealer on this planet yet.”

There was a chorus of laughter from the class and even Felix broke out one of his unpracticed grins. “That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard,” he said. “Remind me to hook you up sometime. Now! Since we’ve got so little time, I’m cutting this short.”

He turned his attention back to Megan and guessed, “A fruit bat who longs for better things?”

She nodded and elaborated, “I’ve been cursed to be a bat.”

“Hate it when that happens,” Felix muttered, then looked at Mason. “As for you, some sort of insatiable talent scout with no standards.”

“Pretty much,” Mason conceded.

Felix’s self-congratulatory smile only lasted until he shifted his focus to Sam. “And you, you’re either higher than I thought or you’re an alien,” he suggested.

“Yes.”

Felix grinned out at the class and quipped, “Well, I think that answers that.”

 

* * *

 

“Any closer to deciding about the party?”

“No.”

Felix absently watched the gym floor, currently home to an impromptu basketball game. He said nothing, so Sam didn’t either, and both quietly watched the game unfold.

Eventually, the bell rang, and once they gathered their things and left the gym, Felix offhandedly remarked, “You should.”

Sam shot him a curious look.

“Go to the party,” Felix said. “You should.”

And off he went, leaving Sam to dwell on his words.

 

* * *

 

As Sam had predicted, his enjoyment of the school day was significantly hindered by Felix’s absence.

Yet again, the teachers played movies for them, and Sam was almost tempted to begin working on the next unit of his algebra textbook.

Almost.

 

* * *

 

Ms. Green took her rightful place at the front of the class, only to immediately return to her desk after calling for another round of improv games.

Everyone seemed to have taken Felix’s suggestion about nominations to heart and started yelling out the names of games— and following that, the names of people to play them.

Sam was thankful no one yelled his.

 

* * *

 

The walk to the gym felt oddly desolate without Felix chattering away at his side.

 

* * *

 

Sam wasn’t sure why the school was bothering to have classes when there were no classes to have.

Maybe Felix had been right to get a head start on the holidays.

 

* * *

 

Halfway through drama, people got it into their heads to nominate Sam for a game.

Megan quickly shouted out Mason’s name, and soon enough, they were both at the front of the room. Sam was grateful for it. Improvising alongside Mason was bound to be easier than most anyone else.

And then the scene was decided.

Mason was to play a shy, quiet man who’d accidentally drawn Sam’s attention.

And Sam?

“A hooker!” someone yelled.

And that was that.

At least his character’s motivation was clear.

 

* * *

 

The scene started and Sam deliberated on what to do.

Mason was obviously a prospective client, so Sam should...

Approach him?

“Hi,” he said, walking up to where Mason sat on one of two chairs that had been pushed together to represent a park bench.

Mason, hunched over, gave him a quick glance before staring at the ground again. “Hello,” he mumbled.

Hmm. The next logical step would be to assuage his interest in Sam’s services, but how? Though the simple solution would be to ask in plain terms, Sam doubted it would make for an entertaining scene.

He also doubted it would be entirely realistic, but that was only a guess on his part.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked.

Mason shot him another glance. “Sure,” he said, turning slightly away.

Sam sat in the empty chair and considered his options. He still needed to assuage Mason’s interest. Perhaps subtly? No, Sam had never quite mastered the art of subtlety, and he held no hope that he suddenly would now.

Unsubtle it was.

“Are you doing anything tonight?”

“No...”

“Do you want to?”

Mason’s head twisted around to send Sam an apprehensive look. “...Like what?” he asked.

A lack of subtlety could only get Sam so far. If he wanted any decent chance of prolonging the scene, he was going to have to change tactics.

He attempted ambiguity and suggested, “We could get to know each other.”

Mason stayed quiet, but conspicuously scooted to the edge of his chair.

It would probably be best to leave him alone. From the very start, it was clear he had no intentions of socializing, and from the very start, Sam would’ve left him alone.

But Sam wasn’t Sam, not now.

Now he was someone else, and he needed a client.

“Wouldn’t that be nice?” he asked, shuffling over to compensate for Mason’s increased distance. One of his hands settled on Mason’s back, and Sam got the distinct impression that he was somehow channeling Felix with the action. He lightly trailed his fingers around and said, “We could go somewhere else... like your house... and have a good time... Don’t you think?”

Mason was shaking his head, meekly saying, “I- I don’t—”

No, don’t let the client get away!

Sam closed in on Mason and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Aren’t you interested? You’re so tense, I could help—”

“I don’t have any money!”

There went his motivation.

“Well, why didn’t you say so?” asked Sam, instantly pulling away and standing from the bench in a matter of seconds.

“Woo!” cheered Megan, officially ending their scene.

Everyone began applauding, and as they returned to their seats, Mason let out a broken laugh.

“I was terrible, I’m sorry, but _wow_. You got _really_ into that!” he choked out, surprise evident in his voice.

Sam felt a sense of accomplishment surging up within him. Was that what actors usually did? Disregard themselves in the name of fulfilling their roles? There was something freeing about it.

No, it wasn’t a role Sam would’ve chosen for himself.

But that was exactly the point, wasn’t it?

 

* * *

 

It was the first day of winter break, and Sam didn’t know what to do.

He watched his shows, spent time with his parents, and generally relaxed.

All the while, something ate away at him until—in a last-ditch attempt to quell it—he called Megan.

“...Hello?”

“Megan?”

“Sam, hi!”

“Yes, hi.”

“What’s up?”

“I’ve decided to go to your party.”


	21. Hiatus, Part 1

Sam spent the majority of the week relaxing, both indoors and out.

In spite of the constant relaxation, worry lingered in the back of his mind.

The party.

Though he’d grilled Megan for details—what to wear, when to arrive, whether he should bring anything—her answers hadn’t been enough to put him at ease. There were too many factors he didn’t know, nor could expect her to either.

He’d have to find out himself.

 

* * *

 

“Sami? You have a call from Felix.”

Sam took the phone his mother offered him and answered, “Hello?”

“Sammy!” Felix cheerfully greeted. “Megan said you decided to party with the rest of us.”

“Yes.”

“Great. Any chance you can give me a ride over?”

“...What?”

“Or I can give you a ride. Either one works, I just think we oughta be able to hang out a little before and after.”

Sam thought it over. He wasn’t completely averse to the idea. “We would have to leave before midnight,” he said.

“Damn, really?” Felix sighed, but then said, “Fine. _And_ I’ll give you the ride, that way I’ll prove to your parents that I’m nice and trustworthy after all.”

“Wait, I should ask them,” Sam said, reaching for his door.

“Ooh, do I get to hear your parents diss me?”

Sam turned back to his room. “No. Wait here,” he said, setting the phone on his desk.

“Huh? Wait where?” came from the phone, but Sam was already leaving.

He made his way to the living room where his parents were quietly talking. As soon as they spotted him, they gave him their full attention.

“What did he want?” his mother asked.

“He offered to take me to Megan’s party.”

His father nodded appreciatively but his mother wasn’t as accepting.

“Did you tell him you have to come back before twelve?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“And he hasn’t had problems driving?”

“No.”

At least, Sam hoped he hadn't.

His mother continued to look unconvinced.

“I don’t see why not,” his father weighed in. “As long as he doesn’t drink and drives with care. It’s a friendly offer. No?”

His mother’s features relaxed by a fraction. “Alright, but take your phone and call us when you arrive.”

Sam nodded and asked, “So I tell him yes?”

His parents glanced at each other and his mother sighed.

“Yes,” she said.

Sam returned to his room and was greeted by the faint sound of Felix successfully maintaining a one-sided conversation.

“Hello,” said Sam, bringing the phone back to his ear.

“—and that’s the story of why I never went back to camp. Hey, welcome back, Sammy!”

“You went to camp?”

“Briefly.”

“Why did you never go back?”

Felix chuckled and said, “That’s for me to know and you to find out. Maybe I’ll tell that story again someday.”

Sam frowned but refocused the conversation. “You can come pick me up,” he said.

“Oh, sweet. Was your mom all torn up about it?”

“Somewhat.”

“Knew it,” Felix boasted. “Anyway, I was thinking around six. Sound good?”

“Yes.”

“Great. You better be ready to party.”

 

* * *

 

Felix kept his promise and arrived at six.

Sam’s parents greeted him, gave them both some basic safety reminders, and then it was just them in Felix’s car.

“Nervous?” Felix asked.

Sam nodded.

“Don’t be,” said Felix as he backed out of the driveway. “I’ll be your guardian angel for the night.”

 

* * *

 

Megan’s house was located in a pleasant neighborhood.

Sam couldn’t make it all out since the sun was already setting, but what he did see was pleasant.

“And here we are,” announced Felix, pulling over and parking. “You ready?”

“...Yes.”

A short phone call to his parents later, he was heading into the house alongside Felix.

It was simultaneously better and worse than he’d expected.

There were no screaming teenagers drinking alcohol as if their lives depended on it, but there were still more people than Sam would’ve preferred.

He supposed it was a fair compromise.

The party itself was located in the basement, with the majority of the floor occupied by various guests and the odd board game. Music played at a tolerable volume, considering it wasn’t particularly enjoyable music, and a table to the side housed a variety of refreshments.

As soon as people spotted Felix, he was bombarded by greetings and questions.

Sam took the opportunity to sneak away towards the refreshments. He couldn’t be roped into much more than talking if he was snacking, could he?

He served himself a small helping of things and sat down in a solitary corner.

 

* * *

 

People did try to talk to him, but again, it wasn’t as bad as he’d expected.

They were all people from drama, and though he was mostly confident that he’d finally learned their names, he was consistently hit with a doubt insisting otherwise the very instant any of them sat down and addressed him.

Even so, he was able to have personal, private conversations with each of them.

One was Julie, who reminisced about their scene together, congratulated his performances thus far, and finished off by voicing her hope that they’d get a chance to work together again.

They were lovely sentiments, and Sam tried to answer in kind as much as he dared.

 

* * *

 

“How are you holding up?” Mason asked.

“Fine,” Sam said, gazing out at his fellow partygoers.

Like in the school cafeteria, Felix once again found himself surrounded by a small group of avid listeners. Interestingly, a decent number of the group’s members weren’t even from drama.

Felix’s appeal was evidently universal.

Mason followed Sam’s gaze and laughed. “Yeah, it’s always like that,” he said. “Hard to imagine a party without him.”

 

* * *

 

“By the way, Sam, you were fantastic in drama the other day,” Megan said.

The room’s overall conversation had turned to praising each other’s performing efforts, and Megan’s remark instantly prompted a chorus of agreements.

“What, the alien thing?” Felix asked.

“No, the hooker thing,” someone called out.

Megan gave Felix a sympathetic look. “Yeah, you missed it. Sam and Mason had to improvise a scene with Sam as a hooker and Mason as some poor guy who just wanted to be left alone.”

Felix blinked a few times, expression incredulous, then loudly questioned, “You all waited until I was _gone_ to have a scene like that!?”

He shot Sam a look and received a helpless shrug in answer.

“Well, gee, Felix,” one of Megan’s non-drama friends spoke up. “If you wanted Sam to play a hooker that bad, you should’ve made him do it yourself.”

To his credit, Felix only spluttered for a couple seconds before complaining, “I swear, you people come up with all the best scenes when I’m not around. Is that the thanks I get for being such a great teacher?”

The conversation shifted into an assessment of Felix’s educational abilities, and Sam instantly relaxed.

 

* * *

 

Felix and Megan were managing to talk quietly off to the side of the room, so that only those closest to them had any hope of hearing the topic at hand.

Judging from the way they kept shooting looks Sam’s way, he had a pretty good idea of what that topic might be.

Mason eventually joined them and gave his own input, demonstrative back touches included.

Felix looked straight at Sam.

Sam turned his gaze downwards and steadfastly focused on his nearly empty plate.

 

* * *

 

“Doing alright?” Megan asked, sitting beside Sam.

“Yes.”

“It’s just that you’ve been over here pretty much the whole time,” she said. “You don’t wanna mingle a little more?”

He shook his head.

“Well, if you’re sure... Oh, I hope you don’t mind that I mentioned your improv the other day, but it was _really_ good.”

“I don’t mind. Felix was asking you about it, wasn’t he?”

Megan laughed. “Yeah, he wanted all the juicy details. Not that they sound all that juicy just saying them, but watching them? Seriously, Sam, you were amazing. I didn’t think you’d be able to. Not that you’re a bad actor!” she backtracked with a grimace. “That’s not what I meant at all. Only that you...”

He waited patiently.

“You...”

He kept waiting.

“.....”

Megan sighed and her expression turned serious. "Sam... Have you ever considered the possibility—and I'm glad Mason's not here, or he'd be begging me not to bring this up—but have you ever considered the possibility that the times you've been good at acting were because you weren't really acting?"

"What are you saying?" Sam asked, already having an idea of what she meant, but needing to hear her voice it aloud.

"I'm saying... Look. I remember how you were that first week in drama. No offense, but you were kind of awful. It's pretty obvious you play off of Felix for all your presentations, and I'm saying that maybe you aren't really acting for most of them, just being yourself."

Sam said nothing.

She continued, “Felix wasn’t there that day, but you still acted really well. Maybe even better than usual, because you were _in the moment_. You weren’t playing off of him or following his directions, you were just... Acting.”

He supposed it was a compliment, and he took it as one. “Thank you,” he said, unsure that her assessment warranted anything more.

Megan smiled, lightly patting him on the shoulder. “You’re great, Sam. You know that, right?”

She left before he could process her words.

 

* * *

 

“Spin the bottle!” someone shouted.

Various groans sounded out.

“Why not?” Megan countered. “Nobody’s gotta play if they don’t want to. Who’s in?”

“What are the rules?” Julie asked.

Megan pressed a finger to her face as she thought. “How about... You _have_ to kiss people on the lips, but it’s up to you if it’s quick or you take your time with it. Yeah?”

A ripple of agreement sounded out.

“Then let’s play!” said Megan.

People began moving, some closer to the designated area and some farther. Sam resolutely stayed where he was, watching the happenings unfold from a safe distance.

“Sammy!” called Felix from his position beside Megan. “Don’t you wanna get over here? Let loose a little?”

“No, thank you,” Sam immediately said.

Felix shrugged. “Your loss. Count me in!”

More than a couple people inched closer to the group at his declaration, Sam noticed.

“Okay, everybody ready?” Megan asked.

The assembled circle of people confirmed their readiness.

“Here we go,” Megan breathed, giving the bottle a spin.

 

* * *

 

In a matter of minutes, Sam witnessed all sorts of kisses, ranging from brief pecks to curious presses to full-fledged open-mouthed interludes.

Megan always seemed open towards kissing the people she had to, Mason kept every kiss polite, and Felix...

Felix was Felix.

In other words, he was sure to show everyone a good time. Interestingly, that didn’t mean he instantly kissed the living daylights out of his partners, though he did do that too sometimes.

But no, it seemed that he was able to guess what people would be happy with. He’d start off slow, mouth on theirs for a second before pressing closer if they didn’t pull away. Then he’d part his lips, and if that didn’t scare them off, on he’d go, until at last he was well and truly kissing the living daylights out of them.

And yes, he occasionally skipped straight to that part, with a single look apparently being all he needed in order to know when it would be welcome.

Sam wondered if Felix was able to tell just from looking at him.

 

* * *

 

After a few more rounds—including a quick smooch between Felix and Mason, after which the latter shot Sam an apologetic look—the game broke apart in favor of snacking and chatting.

“I’m gonna go get some more food to bring down,” Megan announced, already climbing up the stairs. “Mace, come give me a hand.”

With their de facto hosts gone, the partygoers settled into smaller groups to talk with each other.

“That was fun. You should’ve joined,” Felix said, plopping down beside Sam with a full plate in hand.

“No, thank you,” Sam repeated.

“Yeah, you said.”

Felix seemed content to munch away at the chips on his plate, so Sam turned his attention back to the partygoers. After a few minutes, Felix spoke again.

“Fuck, there's no drinks left. You thirsty?”

Sam nodded.

“Then c’mon, let’s go get drinks,” Felix said as he stood.

“Megan and Mason are bringing more,” Sam pointed out, but stood anyway.

“Well, they're taking too long,” Felix replied, and up the stairs he went, Sam at his heels.

Once at the top, Felix confidently set off in a random direction, confirming Sam's suspicions that he'd been in Megan’s house to a greater extent before.

Or he was _very_ bold.

“Huh. So much for getting more food,” Felix commented.

Sure enough, the kitchen was empty, with no Megan or Mason in sight. It was disconcerting, to say the least.

“Can’t believe I’ve gotta lay off the good stuff,” Felix muttered as he opened the refrigerator. “Whataya’ want?”

“Water’s fine.”

“ _Eugh_ , boring,” Felix answered, but proceeded to grab Sam’s cup and refill it anyway. “Here you go.”

Sam took the offered cup with a murmured thanks, and Felix went back to eyeing the refrigerator’s contents. After some consideration, he finally pulled out a bottle and refilled his own cup.

A long moment passed in silence, both too occupied with drinking to talk.

“You know they're probably fucking, right?”

Sam was extremely grateful he'd already swallowed the gulp of water he'd just taken. “What?”

“ _Megan and Mason_ ,” Felix said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “They're probably going at it in her room right now.”

It was a crass subject, but Sam still asked, “Why?”

“Because it's the one night she has the house all to herself? Sure, the party was fun, but it wasn’t enough, and they wanted to take proper advantage of everything, so up they came for a quickie. Only it's not that quick,” Felix said, as casually as if he were explaining his reasoning for weather predictions.

Sam tried to picture it.

A wave of guilt promptly crashed over him. He had no business imagining what went on behind closed doors, particularly when it came to such intimate matters, and especially when those matters concerned his friends.

“Don't believe me? We could go check,” Felix said with a laugh. “Can you imagine that?”

Yes, Sam could.

Not that he _should_.

But he could.

Felix laughed again. “Megan wouldn't mind too much, but Mason’s enough of a softie that he might scream and faint,” he speculated.

Sam wondered what made Felix so sure, but didn’t get a chance to ask.

“He must fuck her pretty well though,” Felix went on. “I don’t see why she’d stick with him otherwise. Unless she’s into him being kind of a pushover... You know, that doesn’t seem too far off the mark, knowing her. Probably bosses him around the entire time, don’t you think?”

He set his cup aside and walked up to Sam.

“Don’t you wanna find out? When are we gonna get another chance like this!? Yeah, Mason’s probably gonna be pissed at us a while, but whatever. Megan will yell at us too, but that's just to keep up appearances. C’mon, it’s a free show, let’s go watch!”

There was a pause with Felix awaiting a response and Sam trying his hardest to supply one but finding it near impossible. Not because he didn’t know what to answer—he did, and it was ‘absolutely not’—but because focusing long enough to get the words out was proving itself to be an insurmountable task.

“Holy shit, Sammy, your eyes are _huge_ ,” Felix breathed, leaning closer, stare intent.

Sam looked away.

Another pause.

“...Are you into this?” Felix asked, stepping closer and laying a hand on Sam’s chest, right over his thumping heart.

A few seconds passed.

“Fuck, you _are_ ,” Felix murmured before chuckling softly. “Who would’ve guessed? Little Sammy Ortez, a Peeping Tom.”

Sam said nothing, but his nervous swallow was more than enough.

Felix began dragging his hand down Sam’s chest, slowly pulling it away until only the tips of his fingers continued trailing downwards.

“But just how into it are you?” he asked. “Enough t—?”

Felix’s fingers brushed against Sam, against his _erection_ , and they both jumped. Felix tore his hand away, and for a while, neither of them said a thing.

Not that it was silent, not with the endless buzzing in Sam’s head, or the panting breaths he tried his best to muffle, or the loud ticking of the kitchen’s clock— a clock that Felix spared a cursory glance at before declaring, “Well, I think it’s late enough that we oughta get going.”

And so saying, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Sam with no choice but to follow.

 

* * *

 

The ride back to Sam’s house was unbearably awkward.

They both refrained from speaking.

Felix’s music was the only thing to fill the air, and Sam resolutely stared out the side window.

 

* * *

 

Sam exited the car without a word and began heading towards his front door.

Behind him, he heard one of the car windows roll down, followed by, “Hey... Sammy?”

He looked back.

Felix grinned at him and said, “Make sure you don’t wait too long to jerk off. It’s not good for you.”

And with a final wink, he left Sam’s driveway and drove back up the street.


	22. Hiatus, Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, all conversations Sam has with his family—and by extension, his relatives—are in Spanish. For ease of reading, they're already translated to English within the text, and their syntax may occasionally reflect that.

Sam made it a full day before succumbing to the urges the party—no, _Felix_ —had incited within him.

After answering his parents’ bombardment of questions concerning the night’s events, he’d gone to bed and done a remarkable job of holding himself back, at last falling asleep from sheer exhaustion. The next day, he’d answered yet more questions, gone for a walk to clear his head, watched his usual shows, and eaten dinner with his parents. Their questions had run dry by then, for which he’d been thankful.

Afterwards, he went to bed despite it being far too early for him to naturally fall asleep, and tossed and turned for hours while recalling the previous day’s happenings bit by excruciating bit.

It was true, Sam had always known the idea of watching others excited him. He’d been intrigued by it since before he had a clear idea of what there was to watch in the first place, and his natural curiosity took up the slack, melding perfectly with his innate desire to _witness_.

He’d never analyzed any of it too closely. It was just something he enjoyed the thought of. He’d never built fantasies around it, or attempted to enact it in real life— mostly because he didn’t entirely appreciate the idea of invading others’ privacy, nor did he think himself capable of it.

He didn’t think himself capable of seeking out willing participants either, but that was mostly due to his social failings in general.

Now, he couldn’t help thinking he’d missed out on several years’ worth of fantasy material. He should’ve explored that aspect of his interests more, should’ve actively incorporated it into his masturbation routines.

Well, at least he’d finally thought to, and it was all thanks to Felix, making it twice that he’d unknowingly influenced Sam’s fantasies.

Hmm. Maybe not entirely unknowingly.

Sam began touching himself, a vague annoyance at Felix clouding his thoughts before he stamped it down. He had all the time in the world to be annoyed at Felix, but right now he ought to focus on his own needs, on his fantasies, on what would help him release his pent-up tension.

He gradually traced his fingers over himself, letting them travel over his chest, his stomach, his hips, and finally, his newly emergent erection. He remembered the way Felix’s fingers had accidentally skimmed over it, the touch too light to fully appreciate, but still enough for his sensitive nerve endings to have immediately registered.

His fingers kept trailing up and down himself until he began to leak, at which point he gathered up the fluid and spread it around, smoothing the glide of his hand.

Absently, he wondered how Felix masturbated, and his mind echoed with the question from the party.

“ _Don’t you wanna find out?”_

Yes, Sam did, and yes, he’d immensely enjoy sneaking a peek into Felix’s room late at night, all for the express purpose of watching him touch himself.

Sam’s erection twitched against his fingers. He gripped it tightly and began imagining in earnest.

Would Felix know he was there? Maybe, maybe not. It didn’t matter. What mattered was watching him, watching the way his hands would sneak along under the covers and—being Felix and therefore unwilling to put up with the hassle of masturbation in such stifling conditions—eventually throw them off, leaving him bare against the cool air.

Both his hands would be hard at work, one openly groping his chest, running over the slope of his front, and the other shamelessly gripping his erection—

No, not erection.

Felix would call it a cock.

Sam’s hand sped up and he forced himself to return to the fantasy.

Felix, fingers tight around his cock, leaking and bucking up into his hand, all while Sam watched. From where, it didn’t matter.

Outside the window?

Inside the closet?

Beside the bed?

_On_ the bed?

All the possibilities held merit, but he had to admit that the last one especially intrigued him. Why wouldn’t it? It was up close and personal. He’d see every twitch of Felix’s cock, hear every soft moan, witness him fall apart firsthand...

Sam worked himself through his orgasm, then cleaned up and waited for his breathing to even out.

The last thing he felt before losing consciousness was overwhelming relief that he wouldn’t have to face Felix for another week.

 

* * *

 

It was the last day of the year, and that meant it was time for the annual New Year’s Eve party at Sam’s relatives’ house.

Specifically, his Aunt Monica’s house, and by extension, her party.

It wasn’t that he disliked his extended family, far from it. He enjoyed hearing what they’d been up to, and the festive energy that came with New Year’s Eve parties was always something he could appreciate, even if he had trouble showing it as enthusiastically as everyone else.

However, he doubted he’d be quite as eager to attend if they began occurring on a more frequent basis. The charm of catching up with family was precisely that: _Catching up_. There was nothing to catch up on if they were all constantly in each other’s vicinity, as had been the case for a brief period in Sam’s life many years ago.

Since then, the visits and parties had steadily become more spaced out, and now, the only surefire way of bringing them all together was New Year’s Eve.

He was excited.

 

* * *

 

“Sami, I’m going to make a cake for the party, do you want to help?”

He did, and before long, he and his mother were sticking a sizable cake-to-be in the oven.

 

* * *

 

The drive to Aunt Monica’s would take several hours, so Sam’s family departed relatively early in the afternoon, hoping to arrive before the party was in full swing.

Aunt Monica had been kind enough to offer that they stay for the night, and they—as they often did—had graciously accepted that offer.

Sam spent the car ride absorbed in the books he’d brought along, one of which was the friend journal.

In all honesty, several of the books he’d brought had simply been to disguise its presence. He’d never told his parents about it, and had no desire to do so now that he’d begun using it as a way to work through his thoughts on Felix.

 

* * *

 

**_What’s your favorite memory of your best friend?_**

**** **** ******The party, the book fair, his performances. Studying.**

 

* * *

 

**_What’s your best friend’s favorite thing about you?_**

**** **** ******Unknown.**

 

* * *

 

**_What do you wish you could do with your best friend?_**

**** **** ******█████**

 

* * *

 

Their arrival at Aunt Monica’s played out as it always did. She greeted each of them at the door with a bone-crushing hug, ushered them inside, and promptly left them to their own devices while she strode off to oversee the rest of her guests.

The music was loud and reverberating, and there was endless chatter to be heard from all directions.

Yes, even just standing in the entry hall.

In years past, Sam’s cousins would drag him to their room shortly thereafter, intent on showing off their newest toys. He’d gone willingly, as he was intrigued by the prospect of new things, but once he became familiar with them, there were very few that maintained his interest.

Now that he was older, it was expected that he’d at the very least greet everyone in passing before he snuck off somewhere, so that’s exactly what he did.

A few relatives tried to hold a conversation with him, and he obliged them as best he could, which truly wasn’t much. Most had come to accept his reserved nature and were quick to let him go after some basic pleasantries.

Little by little, he worked his way through the guests present, both inside and outside the house. Once he was finished, he headed back indoors to the room where his cousins were most likely to be.

Sure enough, there the pair of them were, accompanied by various others. Some were nieces or nephews of Sam’s, and some were just friends of his cousins.

Upon entering the room, Sam received a few stilted greetings, to which he replied with his own. He moved farther inside to see what was on the television that had them all so enraptured.

Ah. A video game.

He sat down on the floor and proceeded to watch his cousins competitively fight each other in the game. It wasn’t the most riveting of entertainment, but it was bound to hold his interest well enough.

For now, at least.

After all, there were only so many hours Sam could listen to the cumbias carrying through the walls without letting his latent urge to dance get the better of him.

 

* * *

 

“Sami!” Diana gasped as soon as she stepped into his cousins’ room.

Well, they were her cousins too, though they seemed to get along with her about as well as they did with Sam.

In other words, not much.

“Diana,” he barely got out before she ran over and launched herself at him, practically squeezing the air from his lungs.

At last, she pulled back, face adorned by a wide grin. “It’s so good to see you again! It looks like you had a growth spurt,” she said, eyes scanning his frame. “But come on, there’s so much I wanted to tell you!”

Away she dragged him.

 

* * *

 

They walked back and forth across the far edge of the backyard, avoiding most of the partygoers while still reaping the benefits of the festive atmosphere.

For a long time, Diana carried the conversation, telling Sam all about her latest adventures, and he avidly listened. He wasn’t usually interested in the subject matter, considering it too far removed from his own experiences to bother with, but Diana had a way with words that captivated him.

There was a reason she’d always been his favorite cousin, after all.

Her stories eventually petered out, and she asked what he’d been up to, likely expecting yet another of his subdued answers. He was tempted to provide exactly that, as it would keep the night carefree and straightforward.

But...

He did still need that confidant.

So he told her.

Everything.

.....

... _Most_ things.

 

* * *

 

Sam wasn’t sure how long he talked, but it must’ve been for far longer than he was accustomed to, given that his voice had grown somewhat hoarse by the time he was finished.

Diana, to her credit, had listened intently throughout it all, never once interrupting despite it being plain to see that she was overflowing with questions. It was only afterwards, when Sam made it clear that he’d said all he needed to, that she spoke.

“...So do you like him?”

Sam stopped himself just short of saying ‘I don’t know’.

He _did_ know.

He just didn’t like knowing.

 

* * *

 

“What are you going to do?”

That, he didn’t know, except in the vaguest possible terms.

Even so, he suspected that ‘keep going to school, put up with Felix, eventually graduate’ wasn’t quite the answer Diana was looking for.

 

* * *

 

“Hmm...” Diana mused.

Sam shared the sentiment.

 

* * *

 

“You know, I never imagined that you would have a problem like this.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “And what problem did you imagine I would have?”

Diana shrugged. “I don’t know. I just remember when we were little. _That_ Sami? Asking me what to do about the guy he likes? Asking _me_ , who was always going around playing in the mud and finding interesting bugs for you?” she pointed out, shaking her head and laughing. “It’s like it gives me nostalgia.”

When she put it like that, he supposed it was kind of strange. A smile pulled at his lips and he let it.

“But look,” she said, fixing him with a determined grin. “You asked me for help, and I’ll give it to you.” She clapped her hands together. “First! Do you think he likes you?”

Sam took a deep breath.

 

* * *

 

“And you’re sure you want to wait?”

“Yes.”

Diana frowned. “But if nothing happens?”

“Nothing happens,” Sam said with a shrug. “Either I wait or I do something, and I really think it will go better for me if I wait.” He paused, considered. “...I think he wouldn’t like it if I did something.”

Diana tilted her head.

“He gives me that impression,” Sam explained.

“How?”

Sam thought it over. In actuality, he wasn’t sure _why_ he had that impression at all. He just did. Something about Felix made it abundantly clear that he could only ever see himself as pursuer, not pursued.

If Sam ever addressed what was happening between them—or what wasn’t happening, as the case may be—Felix was likely to run and never look back.

Doing something was always be a possibility, but one that Sam would rather avoid. He was content to enjoy what he and Felix had for as long as it lasted, even if neither of them knew what it was. Maybe that made him desperate, but he liked to think otherwise.

He liked to think he was following Felix’s lead.

 

* * *

 

Eventually, Diana managed to procure a pen and paper from somewhere and scribbled down her number. She handed it over with a reminder that he ought to start using his cell phone more consistently, singing texting’s praises.

“Call me when you want,” she said. “If something happens, or you decide you want to do something, or just to talk. Okay?”

Sam nodded.

Diana smiled. “Alright. Now, the night is young,” she said, offering him a hand and nodding towards the house, where the dancing had since kicked into full swing. “Shall we dance?”

He gave a quiet chuckle and took her hand.

She grinned.

“Let the party start!”

 

* * *

 

Sam didn’t consider himself an exceptional dancer by any means. He was decent, and had enough coordination to hold his own without making a fool of himself.

Diana was another story.

She loved to dance and it had always shown. Ever since they were young, she’d spent the majority of parties dancing, and had made sure to drag Sam into at least one dance every single time.

Of course, it tended to end up being more than one, but when he was on the dance floor beside her it didn’t matter, as getting him onto the dance floor in the first place was half the battle and then some. Once she got him started, his inhibitions were lowered for the rest of the party, which was both a blessing and a curse.

Dancing was so tiring.

 

* * *

 

Sam sat down with a drink and food, watching Diana continue to make her way across the dance floor with one partner after another, her enthusiasm never waning.

It was riveting.

Nevertheless, his mind began to wander after a few minutes. He thought back to their conversation about Felix, about what Sam should do— if anything at all, and whether he even wanted to.

Ultimately, he was thankful for the conversation, though he was no closer to a definitive solution. But that didn’t matter. The mere act of speaking his mind about what had been troubling him for months?

That was solution enough.

 

* * *

 

The party marginally died down, as much as a party of its magnitude could, and Sam settled into the sleeping bag he’d been supplied with.

He resolved to enter Diana’s number into his cell phone as soon as he returned home.

 

* * *

 

He did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congratulations, you're halfway through the fic! If you're at all curious about what's gone into it so far, I've written up an [author's commentary](https://panpinecone.dreamwidth.org/1169.html) of sorts.
> 
> Thank you for sticking around, and I hope you enjoy the second half!


	23. Season 2, Episode 1

Sam's return to school proved uneventful.

It was straight to work on the next algebra unit, and similarly, straight to work on the next history one too.

The most eventful thing to happen was what didn't happen.

Felix wasn’t there.

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t until Sam walked into biology and saw Mason that Megan’s party—or specifically, why he’d left it—came crashing back to the forefront of his mind.

He studiously avoided Mason’s gaze all through class.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, are you okay? You and Felix left without saying anything.”

Sam had decided to wait for Mason as class ended, in an attempt to stop being so avoidant the minute something awkward inconvenienced him.

He was already regretting his decision.

“It was getting late,” he said.

Mason nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. Still, Megan and I would’ve liked to say bye.”

Sam felt himself begin to sweat.

“Too bad we ended up taking so long in the garage,” Mason continued. “I was helping her bring in more drinks when one of the cans fell down and exploded. It got everywhere, so we were trying to clean it up as fast as possible, but I guess we missed you guys anyway.”

Somehow, knowing the wholly innocent truth of Megan and Mason’s absence had Sam feeling even guiltier and more perverse than not knowing.

“Sam?”

Mason was looking at him with concern.

Time to deflect.

“How was the rest of the party?” he asked.

“Oh, it was great. After you left, someone started up a game of charades, and you should’ve been there for Megan’s turn.”

Sam listened diligently to Mason’s recount as they walked to the cafeteria, grateful for the distraction from his memories.

 

* * *

 

Megan caught up to him on the way to literature.

“Any reason why you left the party in such a hurry?”

“No.”

She squinted at him but didn’t press the matter, instead commenting, “You looked pretty into that game of spin the bottle.”

Sam said nothing.

Megan gave him a light shove. “ _Ahh_ , I’m just teasing!”

He felt himself relax the slightest bit.

 

* * *

 

Ms. Green once again stood at the front of the room, but instead of getting the improv games started right away, she actually had some news for them.

“In a little under two months, there’s going to be some sort of competition,” she said. “I don’t know too much about it, but I think you all do?”

Several people nodded.

Ms. Green smiled and said, “Great! For the rest of you who don’t know what I’m talking about, don’t worry.” She retrieved a paper from her desk and began reading from it.

According to what she read out, every year there was an event aimed at high school drama students. It consisted of various categories that each school’s students could compete in: Pantomimes, monologues, scenes, songs, scriptwriting, and more.

The event would take place on a Saturday, early in the morning and several hours away. In order for students to attend, they had to compete in one or more of the categories. By late afternoon, the judges’ scores would be delivered to their teachers, and the winners of each category would be eligible to compete in the event’s second iteration.

“Felix said he’s competed every year he could,” Ms. Green remarked. “He also said he expected several of you to compete again, and maybe even some of you for the first time.”

Most of the newbies shifted restlessly.

“But don’t worry, it’s not mandatory!” Ms. Green clarified, and several sighs of relief sounded out.

“Still, I’m sure you all have questions that Felix could answer better than I can, so let’s hope he shows up tomorrow,” she said, folding up the paper and grinning out at them.

“Now who’s ready for some improv!?”

 

* * *

 

Physical education’s focus turned to volleyball.

Sam wondered what Felix would think.

 

* * *

 

“How was school?”

Sam looked up. “Fine.”

His mother’s eyes settled on his homework. “They already gave you homework?” she asked incredulously.

“Yes.”

She tsked and shook her head. “And your friends?”

“Fine.”

“How did Felix spend the break?”

“I don’t know,” Sam said, turning back to his work.

“He didn’t tell you?”

Sam shrugged minutely. “He wasn’t there today.”

“Ah. Well, hopefully he’s there tomorrow!”

Sam hummed noncommittally.

 

* * *

 

Sam walked into history and sat at his desk, immediately looking towards the door and searching for Felix.

To his relief, Felix soon walked in and headed towards his own desk, where he sat down and spotted Sam. With a smirk, he raised his hand in a wiggly-fingered wave.

Sam nodded his head in acknowledgment.

 

* * *

 

“You weren’t here yesterday.”

“Yeah,” Felix said, leaning against a wall and shrugging his free shoulder. “Didn’t want the holidays to end. But hey, you managed to survive without me, didn’t you?”

Sam frowned.

A grin spread across Felix’s face. “ _There’s_ the Sammy I know and love!” he said, then abruptly glanced off to the side. “So... Did you _enjoy_ the rest of your holidays?” he threw out, tone and expression making it clear what he was really asking.

Sam crossed his arms and said, “Yes.”

Felix blinked.

Sam said nothing more.

“Well! Good, that’s good. Alright, see you later!”

Felix quickly departed and Sam stared after him.

Who would’ve guessed he’d be so easy to fluster?

 

* * *

 

Like Ms. Green had predicted, Felix was indeed capable of answering everyone’s questions about the upcoming acting competitions, down to the smallest of details.

He announced that they all had a couple weeks to sign up for the event, cautioned that they wouldn’t be returning until evening, and reiterated that only those competing could attend.

As much as the concept of an event like that intrigued him, Sam doubted attending was worth the hassle of competing.

 

* * *

 

“ _Fuck_ volleyball!” Felix hissed, holding out his arms. “Look at this!”

Sam looked.

The entirety of Felix’s forearms were a splotchy red.

Sam grimaced.

“ _Right?_ My arms aren’t made for that shit, and who the fuck plays volleyball for fun anyway!?”

 

* * *

 

Halfway through dinner, Sam remembered the next week’s history test.

“Can Felix come to study again?”

His parents looked at him, faces considering.

“Fine,” his mother said. “But not outside. It’s too cold.”

 

* * *

 

Sam entered Felix’s number into his cell phone, and Megan’s too while he was at it.

After a while of internal debating, he settled on texting Felix instead of calling him, as it was about time he worked on his texting skills.

 

* * *

 

[OUTGOING]  
You can come over to study on Saturday at noon.

[INCOMING]  
omg you’re texting! it’s like you’re a real boy now :’)

 

* * *

 

The rest of the week passed as uneventfully as it began, with the exception of Felix’s relentless grousing over volleyball. However, Friday brought yet another bit of news to drama.

“Our director project went really well. Congratulations, all of you,” Felix said, bringing his hands up in a show of applause.

Everyone cheered and applauded along.

Felix cleared his throat. “Now, you might remember me saying something about doing _two_ plays this year. That’s because—since our tried and true drama teacher is missing, no offense to Ms. Green—the extracurricular side of things got merged into the main class,” he explained. “That’s to say: We’d normally only do one play during school hours, and you’d have to stick around after school and on weekends for the second.”

There was a low rumble of muttering that Felix instantly put a stop to it with a loud “So!”

With everyone’s attention back on him, he went on, “I get that not everyone here’s itching to do two plays, and that’s fine. That’s why our first ‘play’ was really just a collection of scenes, and it’s why our second ‘play’ will also just be a collection of scenes... More or less.”

He turned to Ms. Green and asked, “When are the scripts getting here?”

“Probably by the end of this month,” she answered.

“Perfect,” Felix said, looking back at them all. “We won’t actually get to them until after the big drama event, to make sure that everyone competing doesn’t have two sets of things to memorize.”

Murmurs of approval were heard from the second- and third-years.

“In the meantime, Ms. Green and I will work out casting,” he said. “Since this is just on school hours and not a full-scale production, we won’t be bothering with understudies. None of you better get sick!”

 

* * *

 

“Ah, I’ve missed this room,” Felix sighed, throwing himself onto the bed.

“I was under the impression that you found the posters questionable,” Sam said.

Felix nodded. “Oh, I do. But it beats turning into a fucking popsicle.”

 

* * *

 

Twenty minutes into studying, Felix started up his habit of derailing the session— this time, by fishing for compliments.

“Seriously, is talking to me anything like talking to a teacher?” he asked. “I’ve been in charge of drama for months now, you can’t tell me it hasn’t influenced your view of me _at all_.”

Sam marked his place in the textbook and faced Felix.

“Not particularly,” he said.

Felix’s glare radiated disbelief. “Rude! I’m your _teacher_ , man. You could show me a little more respect!”

Inspired by Felix’s own words from long ago, Sam motioned towards the textbook and said, “Then technically, I’m your teacher too. So we’re equals.”

Felix’s eyes narrowed as he worked his jaw back and forth. Sam patiently waited for any forthcoming response.

Finally, Felix muttered, “It’s not the same.”

Then he flopped back onto the bed and stayed quiet, leading Sam to return to the textbook and pick up where they’d left off.

 

* * *

 

“What’s the story with the posters?” Felix asked.

Sam tilted his head and Felix aimlessly waved a hand.

“You know, like... What’s the deal? You don’t seem like the kind of guy to drool over cartoon chicks in short skirts.”

“I don’t. The stories are interesting.”

A bark of laughter escaped Felix. “Oh? Do tell,” he prompted, flipping onto his belly and watching Sam with rapt attention.

He wasn’t _really_ interested, that much was obvious.

But like hell Sam wouldn’t take an opportunity to defend his own interests.

 

* * *

 

“Wait, that sounds familiar...”

Sam watched as Felix looked off to the side, lightly pouting as he apparently tried to remember something.

“Holy shit!” he suddenly exclaimed, smacking the bed. “Your fucking character worksheet from the beginning of the year! _That’s_ who you filled it out as!?”

“Not ‘as’, for.”

“Same difference! Here I was, trying to figure out what character you’d picked, and it was some anime chick? I can’t _believe_ you.”

There were many things Sam could’ve chosen to address, but what he settled on was, “You saw those worksheets?”

“Pshhh, yeah. Ms. Green’s nice and all, but she’s kind of useless, y’know?”

As scathing an assessment as it was, Sam found he had to agree.

 

* * *

 

“Sammy, I’m _bored_.”

“If studying was fun, everyone would do it.”

“ _Sammy_...”

Sam sighed and turned in his chair.

Felix was draped across the bed, arms and head lifelessly hanging towards the ground. After a couple seconds, he craned his neck upwards, but couldn’t manage anything higher than Sam’s crotch level, which was where he directed his next words to.

“Can’t we do something fun?”

Sam crossed his arms. “Like what?” he asked.

Felix let his head flop downwards again. “I dunno,” he said, somehow shrugging despite his unconventional position.

A moment passed in silence.

With nothing better to do, Sam stood up and stretched, then walked around to the other side of the bed.

Felix remained motionless.

Sam flopped down onto the bed beside him.

Felix scrambled to lift his upper half, and Sam wordlessly looked up at him from where he lay, arms hanging over the sides as Felix’s had done.

The surprise and confusion on Felix’s face were plain to see, so Sam explained, “I was curious.”

Felix’s lips pressed together and he abruptly flopped back down, head and arms hanging loose once more.

Sam was ready to bet that he’d only just managed to hide a smile.

 

* * *

 

The clock ticked.

Sam had stopped keeping track of the seconds several minutes ago.

Felix suddenly rolled over, ending up halfway atop him, pressed against his side.

“I’m still bored,” Felix mumbled, chin digging into his shoulder.

“Then suggest something to do,” Sam mumbled back.

Felix resolutely stayed put, even stretching an arm and leg across Sam to accommodate himself.

When several more seconds passed in silence, Sam lifted his head and said, “We should get back to studying.”

“ _No_ ,” Felix whined, draping himself farther across Sam in an apparent attempt at preventing him from getting up.

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door and Felix bolted away, nearly toppling to the floor in his haste.

“Yes?” Sam asked, watching a wide-eyed Felix try to calm his breathing.

“There’s some snacks if you’re hungry,” Sam’s mother’s voice came through the door.

“Okay, thank you,” Sam said, further amused that Felix hadn’t even mustered one of his usual calls of ‘thanks, Mrs. Ortez’.

Felix finally stopped breathing like a nervous rabbit and scowled.

“At least she knocked,” Sam pointed out.

Felix’s scowl deepened.

 

* * *

 

A quick snack run later, they were back in Sam’s room, working through the textbook yet again.

Sam wondered how long Felix would last without interrupting this time.

 

* * *

 

After an hour, Felix asked, “Sam?”

“Yes?”

“...Never mind.”

 

* * *

 

Sam accompanied Felix to the door, and as they passed the living room, Sam’s father asked, “Have the study sessions been helping you?”

Felix smiled wide and assured, “Oh, absolutely. Sam’s a great teacher.”

Sam’s father beamed. “Wonderful!” he said, giving them two thumbs-up.

Felix returned the gesture and even Sam’s mother looked amused by his antics.

 

* * *

 

Outside, Felix beckoned Sam to follow him to his car.

Once there, he leaned against it and commented, “I may be wrong here, but I’m pretty sure I’m in both your parents’ good graces now.”

“You always were,” Sam said.

“You keep saying that, but I’m pretty sure you know it’s not true.”

With that, Felix entered his car and gave a final wave before driving off.


	24. Season 2, Episode 2

Sam instantly knew they were in for a special lesson as soon as he walked into drama and saw a face doodled on the whiteboard.

“Like my art, Sammy?” Felix asked.

Sam set his bag down and approached the whiteboard to examine the doodle more closely.

It was extremely rudimentary, with the eyes just a step above being circles of varying sizes overlaid atop each other. Likewise, the mouth was little more than a slightly curved line, with the nose probably being the most defined feature of the whole thing.

Or maybe just the biggest.

“Is it meant to be so basic?” he asked.

Felix crossed his arms. “You know, as a matter of fact, it is. Why, not anime enough for you?”

Sam gave him an unimpressed look.

“Just you wait and see,” Felix muttered, casting his gaze away in a manner that made it clear he was done with the conversation.

Sam returned to his seat and waited for class to start.

 

* * *

 

“Everyone get out a sheet of paper,” Felix instructed.

Everyone did.

“Now draw a face on it, and _don’t_ make it overly detailed. Keep it as basic as this,” he said, shooting Sam a glare.

The noise of sketching filled the room for a minute, then quieted down.

“Alright, you see that face?” Felix asked. “Pretty plain, right? That’s how your face looks onstage.”

A couple of the newbies gasped.

Felix nodded. “Tragic, I know. That’s how you all looked when we did our scenes at the auditorium, and that’s how you’ll all look the next time we perform there. Why? Stage lights,” he said, pointing at the ceiling and floor. “They wash your face out, so only the basics stay.”

He widened his eyes in Sam’s direction, perfectly articulating ‘I told you so’ without ever opening his mouth.

Sam offered an exasperated look in return.

Felix turned to the rest of the class, his silent exchange with Sam seemingly too quick to have drawn anyone’s attention.

“‘That’s terrible!’ you say. ‘How do we fix this?’ you ask. Well, everyone, I have just the answer,” Felix said, brandishing his marker and scrawling something beneath the face on the whiteboard. He stepped aside, revealing the word: _MAKEUP_

Felix nodded and said, “That goes for guys too.”

There were scoffs from some of the newbie guys.

“Like this guy.” Felix indicated the face on the whiteboard. “You can’t tell it’s a guy, can you? It’s just a face. Gee, if only we could make it look more masculine...” He trailed off, tapping his chin in thought, then suddenly proclaimed, “Wait a minute! That’s what makeup’s for!”

In the span of a less than a minute, he’d used his marker to fill in various areas of the face, and sure enough, it looked considerably more masculine by the time he was finished.

The newbie guys who’d scoffed were silent.

Felix cocked his hip, tapping his chin again. “Hmm, but maybe Mr. Whiteboard here wants to play a different kind of role. Wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened in this class. Let’s get him fixed up,” Felix said, and proceeded to erase all the hard lines and shadows he’d added in.

As they watched, he picked up and used a red marker, a blue one, a green one, and then the usual black one again. When he was done, the face was certainly much more colorful than before, but the lines and shadows he’d filled in were also mildly different, distorting the face’s overall shape into something just a little more feminine.

“There we go,” Felix proudly stated, waving towards the completed face. “Mr. Whiteboard’s all set to play a whole other role. Something less macho, hm?”

He stared in the newbie guys’ direction for a second, spared Sam a disbelieving look, then addressed the rest of the class.

“Now, then. It’s not about throwing random stuff at your face to see what works, so let’s go through the stages of makeup step by step.”

 

* * *

 

“There’s newbie guys like that every year, and our old teacher would shut them up pretty quick, but getting to do it myself?” Felix brought the tips of his fingers to his lips and gave an exaggerated, “ _Mwah_.”

“Are we all going to wear makeup?” Sam asked.

Felix laughed. “Fuck no. Proper theatre makeup kits are expensive as shit, and we can’t exactly let people share them. But I do love seeing those guys squirm, so I’m holding off on announcing that part until the end of the week,” he confided.

Sam shook his head, a small smile pulling his lips upwards. “You’re a menace.”

“Takes one to know one.”

 

* * *

 

“I can’t believe we’ve got a test even with Friday off,” Felix muttered.

“Be glad you studied,” replied Sam, already filling out his practice worksheet.

 

* * *

 

“I dragged Mason along to the competitions last year,” Megan commented at lunch. “We did a scene together, and I still feel slightly bad about it, since he was so out of his depth, but hey, you’ve gotta start somewhere.”

Mason grimaced. “You could’ve prepared me just a _little_ better,” he said.

“Aww. Sorry, Mace,” Megan said, leaning over to give him a peck on the cheek. She looked back at Sam and continued, “Anyway, the reason I’m bringing this up is because I’m pretty sure Felix is gonna try doing the same thing with you.”

Sam raised an eyebrow.

“Drag you to the competitions, make you do a scene with him,” she elaborated.

Sam thought that over, then asked the only question that came to mind, “Why?”

“What do you mean ‘why’?” she asked, amusement in her voice. “Mason, tell Sam why.”

“Because he’s Felix and he’s obsessed with you? Come on, Sam, we all know it,” Mason supplied.

“Well... Yes,” Sam admitted, sending a furtive glance towards Felix’s table.

As always, all its occupants’ attention was focused on one very loud, very expressive figure.

Sam turned back to Megan and Mason. “But Felix would want to win. Why would he do a scene with me when there’s more experienced candidates?” he asked.

“He wants to win, but that doesn’t mean he expects to,” Mason said.

Megan nodded.

Sam looked between them curiously.

“Long story short, the last time anyone from our school won was years and years ago,” Megan said. “It’s not gonna happen now, mainly because the other schools have more money and more donors and it feeds back into the event itself. Blah-blah-blah, vicious cycle, blah-blah.”

Sam considered that.

“But it's fine. In a way, knowing none of us will win gives us a lot of freedom to do what we want, all without worrying about the points it'll get us,” Megan explained.

“Yeah,” Mason agreed. “Like how I’m not exactly the world’s greatest singer, but Meg and I are thinking about entering the duet category this year.”

Megan grinned. “Oh, nonsense, your singing’s perfect,” she assured. “Really though, it’s nice not to be worried about winning, even when we really should. Like Felix last year.”

Sam's curiosity grew.

“His presentation was incredible,” Mason said, turning to Sam. “He did a monologue and kept the room’s attention on him the entire time. None of the others I saw were half as good. And yeah, he didn’t win. Didn’t even place second.”

Megan looked off into the distance. “That was a great monologue, wasn’t it?” she murmured. “No idea where he got it though...”

Sam wasn’t completely certain he’d understood their reasoning, but tentatively guessed, “He’d do a scene with me even if it lowers his chances at winning, just because he’s sure he won’t win?”

Megan and Mason shrugged in unison.

“Basically,” Megan said.

Sam frowned.

 

* * *

 

“Got your face drawings from yesterday?” Felix asked.

Some scattered nods.

“Then take ’em out,” Felix said, waiting as they all did so. “If you can’t find yours, whatever, just draw it again. Shouldn’t be that hard.”

Soon enough, everyone had drawings on their desks.

Felix smiled approvingly. “Good. So, yesterday I showed you all some basic corrective work. Emphasizing features, adding a bit of visual appeal. But that’s not all makeup can do,” he said, pulling the whiteboard markers close.

“Try your best to follow along.”

 

* * *

 

By the end of the class, Felix had made them all draw several more renditions of the rudimentary face, decorating each with various types of ‘makeup’ before moving on to the next.

A masculine face, a feminine one, an elderly one, a babyish one, and even one made to look like a cat.

“For any _Cats_ enthusiasts out there,” he said.

 

* * *

 

There was a noticeable drop in temperature when Sam first left his house on Wednesday morning, and he ducked back inside to retrieve his warmest coat.

Upon arriving at school, he grimly noted that many others either weren’t fortunate enough to have a proper coat, or simply had no sense of self-preservation.

He hurried to his first class, unwilling to spend any more time outside than he had to.

 

* * *

 

Felix walked into history, clad in a worn hoodie.

The second his eyes met Sam’s, Felix looked as if he was trying his hardest not to burst into raucous laughter right then and there.

Sam squinted but Felix looked away, hurrying to take his seat.

 

* * *

 

“What’s so funny?” Sam asked.

Felix grinned madly. “Fuck, you oughta see yourself,” he said. “I swear you’re just missing earmuffs.”

Sam raised an eyebrow.

Apparently unable to contain himself any longer, Felix pointed straight at Sam and practically squealed, “You’re like a cocoon!”

He sounded so uncharacteristically delighted that both of Sam’s eyebrows shot up.

“...How?”

Felix brought a fist to his mouth, eyes crinkling and shoulders shaking. “You just do...” he wheezed out, shaking his head.

Sam peered down at himself, which prompted Felix to look away, muttering something about penguins waddling around in cocoons. Before Sam could reply, Felix wiped at the corners of his eyes and walked away, throwing back a single “See you around!”

 

* * *

 

Megan and Mason had been staring at him since he first sat down to eat lunch, and it was starting to unnerve him for two main reasons.

First: They’d sat at his table despite it being a Wednesday.

Second: Megan’s stare was extremely potent.

Mason eyed her with a knowing look, but rather than clue Sam in, he stayed quiet, starting on his lunch.

After a full minute of silently staring, Megan breathed, “Sam?”

“Yes?”

“You look _adorable_.”

“Felix said otherwise.”

“ _Really?_ What did he say?” Megan asked, looking positively scandalized at what she apparently saw as a grave injustice.

Even Mason looked taken aback by it.

“That I was like a cocoon,” Sam said. “Possibly also a penguin. Or a penguin in a cocoon. I’m not sure.”

Megan smiled and rolled her eyes. “Sam, that _is_ adorable. Have you ever even _heard_ something that adorable before?” she asked.

He thought it over.

She might be onto something.

 

* * *

 

Felix had shed his hoodie and began the day’s lesson as soon as the bell rang.

The vast majority of it was spent going through makeup tips and tricks, which he suggested they all take notes on.

He studiously avoided looking Sam’s way the whole hour.

 

* * *

 

At the end of drama, Felix had no choice but to gather his things and face Sam—

And promptly slam his mouth shut, lips pressing together but doing nothing to disguise the laughter he was so clearly attempting to hold in.

Sam sighed and began walking towards the gym, Felix quietly following along.

 

* * *

 

The next time Felix walked into history and set his eyes on Sam’s coat, he managed to maintain a considerably more neutral face.

At least, compared to his previous reaction.

For such a great actor, he really could be quite transparent at times.

 

* * *

 

Megan and Mason sat at Sam’s table for the second day in a row.

He was glad for their company.

 

* * *

 

“I’m sure you’re all wondering whether you’ll have to wear makeup for our second play,” Felix said, looking out at them. “Lucky for some of you, you won’t. Too much hassle.”

Several people, mainly the newbie guys who’d previously annoyed Felix, let out relieved sighs.

Felix held up a finger and went on, “Still, I recommend that those of you who can, do. I’m assuming several of you girls have your own makeup. If so, use it, more than usual. Trust me, you might look like a clown offstage, but onstage is where people are gonna be looking.”

There were a few unconvinced hums from around the room.

“As for the guys,” Felix added, “I understand that getting your hands on some makeup might be difficult, so I won’t blame you for looking like pasty ghosts up on that stage. But! If you _do_ get the chance, you should absolutely slap some on. You wanna get all the attention, don’t you? Then chisel yourself a halfway decent jawline with makeup.”

 

* * *

 

“At least you don’t have to worry about your jawline,” Felix idly commented on their way to the gym. “That’s already plenty chiseled.”

Sam said nothing, but felt a surge of warmth arise in himself at the compliment.

Felix gave him a curious look. “What are you thinking?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

It was true.

He wasn’t thinking.

He was feeling.

 

* * *

 

Sam’s Friday off was spent on completing his homework and watching his shows.

At one point, he checked his cell phone and realized Diana had texted him.

 

* * *

 

[INCOMING]  
has he done something?

[OUTGOING]  
No.

[INCOMING]  
for now!!!

 

* * *

 

Could relatives count as friends?

He wasn’t sure, but he added her to the friend journal anyway.


	25. Season 2, Episode 3

On Monday, Sam woke up to a text from Felix.

 

* * *

 

[INCOMING]  
i’m borrreeeddd

 

* * *

 

Sam had no idea how to answer.

What could Felix be hoping for?

After several hours of puzzling over it, Sam decided to just ask.

 

* * *

 

[OUTGOING]  
What do you want?

[INCOMING]  
you’re lucky i know you so well or that would’ve come off rude as fuck  
you have to learn how to get tone across when texting

[OUTGOING]  
Are you branching out into teaching texting classes?

[INCOMING]  
i should  
but only if i get paid for once

[OUTGOING]  
Yes.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, guys,” Felix greeted, sliding into the seat beside Sam and smiling politely at Megan and Mason.

“Hey,” they both replied in unison, wearing identical frowns.

“Can’t help noticing you’ve been here at Sammy’s table for an entire week now,” Felix said, reaching over and stealing a bit of Sam’s lunch. “Not that I mind, but it’d be nice to know I’m not being _totally_ ditched.”

Megan rolled her eyes.

Mason gave Felix an unimpressed look.

Sam asked, “Is this what it means to be a drama queen?”

“Yes,” Megan and Mason replied in unison once again.

 

* * *

 

“Like I mentioned before, we won’t start working on our next play for a while,” Felix said. “In the meantime, we’ll be pairing up and performing scenes. It’ll be like our director project, except this time, you and your partner are your own directors.”

Excited murmuring ensued.

Felix added, “The scenes you do can be from whatever you want, just so long as they’re ‘age appropriate’ and all that. Hell, you can even write your own, but make sure it’s longer than one minute and less than three. You’ve got until Friday to turn in what you’re gonna do, and we’ll perform a couple weeks after that.”

He turned to the whiteboard, where a few magnets held up the upcoming drama event’s competition rules. “As a bonus,” he said, giving the flyer a tap, “if your scene meets the requirements, then yes, it can be the same one you compete with. Now, as for how to pair you all up...”

Everyone held their breath.

“Pick your partners.”

 

* * *

 

Sam was partnerless for approximately five seconds, if one were estimating generously.

 

* * *

 

“We have to compete. You know that, right?” Felix asked.

No, Sam didn’t know that. He suspected it, certainly, but he didn’t _know_ it.

Felix carried on talking despite Sam’s silence.

“I’ll be competing in other categories too, but you don’t have to worry about those. All you’ve gotta do is focus on our scene,” he said excitedly. “We have a month. We can do it.”

“Do what?” Sam asked.

Felix’s grin faded away in confusion. He raised an eyebrow.

“What scene?” Sam specified.

Felix’s grin slowly returned. “So you’ll do it?”

Sam sighed.

“Do I have a choice?”

 

* * *

 

“I’ve been thinking.”

“While playing volleyball?”

“Oh, I always think while playing volleyball,” Felix said. “It’s just that those thoughts are usually an endless stream of ‘fuck volleyball’.”

“Hmm.”

“But no, I was thinking about our scene. I wanna write it myself.”

Sam gave him a curious look.

“The ones coming to mind don’t really work,” Felix explained. “Maybe I’m not thinking hard enough, but even setting that aside, I’ve always wanted to act my own stuff. You might be surprised, but I’m a pretty good writer.”

“Are you?” Sam asked, unlocking his car and depositing his bag in the back.

To his chagrin, Felix leaned against the driver’s side door as he kept talking.

“I am,” he assured. “What, don’t believe me?”

Sam crossed his arms. “What have you written?” he asked.

“Oh, a little of this, a little of that.”

Sam squinted at him.

Felix smiled pleasantly.

“Show me,” Sam finally said.

Felix pushed himself off the car.

“Sure. We have until Friday to turn in a script.”

 

* * *

 

“Did you write anything?” Sam asked as they left history.

“No. I told you, we have until Friday.”

 

* * *

 

“Did you write anything?” Sam asked as they paired up in drama.

“No. I _told_ you, we have until Friday.”

“That’s tomorrow.”

“...Yeah, I know that.”

 

* * *

 

“Did you write anything?” Sam asked as Felix ran up to him on the way to history, completely out of breath.

Felix triumphantly brandished a collection of pages. “Your copy,” he panted out. “Read it.”

“I will,” Sam said, flipping through the pages.

“No. Read it now.”

“We have history now.”

Felix shook his head. “Lecture doesn’t matter.”

Sam frowned but said nothing.

 

* * *

 

“Proud of you, Sammy. Reading during class? Glad to see you’re a rebel at heart.”

“It’s good,” Sam said, completely bypassing Felix’s chatter. “Does it meet the time requirements?”

Felix’s eyes shone in a way that Sam had come to associate with him getting his way.

“It does,” Felix said. “At least it should if you play it how I think you will.”

Sam nodded. “You’re sure you want us to compete?”

“Why, having second thoughts?”

“...No.”

 

* * *

 

Felix’s script really was good.

The scene was simple, consisting solely of pointless bickering between the two of them, with hints of a larger underlying plot.

Sam doubted it was competition material, but it was entertaining, and when he thought about it...

Felix was an entertainer.

 

* * *

 

He walked into drama and Felix instantly swooped over to him.

“I just got Ms. Green to sign us up for the scene competition,” he said.

So that was it. They were really going to the event, really competing.

Sam would need to ask Mason how to prepare, since he doubted either Felix or Megan would give adequate advice.

“I also asked her if we could practice out in the hall,” Felix went on. “After all, it’s always nice to have a bit of privacy for these things.”

Sam wasn’t entirely sure what Felix meant by that, but nodded anyway.

 

* * *

 

They turned out to be one of the few pairs with a selected script— nearly all the others were in the final stages of choosing one.

Out in the hall, Sam and Felix went through theirs.

Felix, having written the very words they were reading aloud, oozed overconfidence with every line he delivered.

Sam, having tapped into his actual acting ability a grand total of one single time, had no manner of tone or emotion to inject into his performance, save for the growl of irritation that Felix’s mere presence always supplied him with.

He wasn’t even irritated by Felix nowadays, but the growl came as easy as ever.

When they finished their first reading, Felix insisted on another, and another, and another, and another. Sam complied, only mildly annoyed by the repetition. He knew it was an inevitability if he hoped to actually memorize the script.

After the fifth reading, Felix remained silent.

Sam waited for him to repeat his ‘take it from the top’ command, but he didn’t.

Instead, he said, “Honestly, I can’t really think of a critique. Not until we both memorize and block this out, anyway. Can you?”

Sam’s surprise at being asked must’ve shown, as the next thing Felix did was laugh and say, “Yeah, I’m asking. We’re partners, remember?”

 

* * *

 

“Can—”

“—‘Felix come to study?’” his mother interrupted.

Sam tilted his head. “How did you know?”

“You always ask that,” she said. “I imagine it would be tomorrow, no? Since he didn’t come last Saturday.”

Sam nodded.

“Then yes, he can come.”

 

* * *

 

[OUTGOING]  
You can come over to study tomorrow at noon.

[INCOMING]  
and here i was starting to worry

 

* * *

 

Felix idly looked through the things scattered atop Sam’s bedside drawer. There were few, but perhaps that was why they’d caught his attention.

He’d started a few minutes ago, and once Sam noticed, he abandoned the textbook in favor of watching Felix gradually go through each assorted item.

“You have so many hair ties,” Felix commented, snapping one onto his wrist.

“They get lost easily,” Sam replied.

“How?” Felix asked, snapping another onto his other wrist. “I could see that happening if you constantly took it out, but you don’t.”

Sam gave his best shrug.

Felix seemed unsatisfied with the nonanswer but let it be. He flopped down onto the bed and asked, “Is the long hair worth it? Seems like a pain to deal with. Why _do_ you deal with it?”

Unsure which question to prioritize, Sam took the efficient approach and addressed both. “Because I like it, and so it’s worth it,” he said, watching Felix’s eyes settle on his hair.

“Why do you like it?” Felix asked.

“Why do you like yours?”

Felix huffed out a laugh. “Because it’s easy to deal with. _That_ isn’t. C’mere.”

Sam hesitated, but then stood and moved to sit on the bed. Felix shuffled up behind him, and Sam knew what was coming before he even felt the hands on his hair.

“Have you ever braided it?” Felix asked as he lightly tugged at Sam’s ponytail.

“I haven’t, but others have.”

“And? How did it look?”

“Like braided hair.”

Sam heard an amused sound, but no more questions were forthcoming, only the telltale tug of Felix pulling off his tie. He stayed put as Felix’s fingers began running through his newly loosened hair, intermittently reaching deeper, towards his scalp.

“You must get absolutely terrible bed head,” Felix cheerfully commented.

Sam said nothing and neither did Felix, continuing to work his fingers in. Despite Sam’s expectations, at no point did he feel them tangling his hair or yanking at it, only slowly running through and occasionally massaging at his scalp.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Felix pulled his hair back into its customary ponytail.

“There you go,” he said, returning to where he’d originally sat. “Good as new.”

Sam smoothed a hand over his hair. It seemed fine, but he didn’t altogether trust Felix’s hairdressing skills.

Or lack thereof.

Even so, there was nothing he could do about it right then, so he moved back to his desk and picked up from where he’d left off in the textbook, prompting Felix to emit a long-suffering groan.

 

* * *

 

“We should practice our scene,” Felix mumbled, staring at the ceiling.

“Fine,” Sam said and pulled his script out. “Ready when you are.”

Felix glanced over, smirking when he spotted the script. “What, haven’t memorized it yet?”

“Have you?”

Felix crossed his arms and pouted at the ceiling.

Sam silently watched him as the seconds ticked by.

Abruptly, Felix sat up and patted the spot where Sam had sat on the bed.

“C’mere,” he said again, and again, Sam went, script in hand.

For the second time that day, Felix shuffled up behind him, craning his head to see the script over Sam’s shoulder.

“Alright, from the top.”

They began reading through the scene, and as they did, Sam felt Felix pressing closer and closer along his back, until his head was no longer craning over his shoulder so much as completely resting on it.

Was it intentional? Clearly, but in what sense? Felix could just be trying to get a better view. Being interested in Sam didn’t mean _everything_ he did had some sort of ulterior motive, did it?

It wasn’t until they finished the scene that Sam realized Felix’s arms had gradually been wrapping around his torso the whole time, slender hands barely noticeable against his stomach.

There was a pause where neither said anything, and then Felix broke it.

“You really have gotten the hang of breathing right.”

“Thanks to you.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Felix said softly, in contrast to his hands, which had settled onto Sam’s stomach more firmly.

Sam swallowed, debating whether he should do something— because if there was ever a time to do something, it seemed this was it. But what could he do short of asking Felix what was happening between them and almost certainly scaring him off?

“What are you thinking?” Felix asked. “And don’t say ‘nothing’.”

“I really was thinking nothing the other day,” Sam deflected.

Felix didn’t take the bait. “And now?”

“...I don’t know.”

“You need to get better at lying, Sammy,” Felix said, starting to knead at Sam’s stomach.

“What makes you think I’m lying?” Sam asked, proud of himself for keeping a steady tone despite the circumstances.

Felix’s hands gave up their kneading in favor of dragging up and down Sam’s torso. “I have my ways,” was all he said.

“That’s not much of an answer.”

“Neither was yours.”

“I know.”

“Ooh, something you _do_ know,” Felix said.

Sam wondered how long Felix could possibly keep this up without things escalating. Either he wasn’t interested in Sam after all, or he had much more self-control than anyone could’ve ever predicted.

Sam knew which option he’d prefer, and maybe he was just inexperienced—probably, actually—but he was pretty sure that most people wouldn’t be able to resist escalating the situation at some point, himself included.

What he’d do once that point came, he didn’t know, only that it couldn’t come fast enough.

And just like that, Felix was pulling away and moving back to his previous spot.

Sam could have cried.

“So how much of the chapter’s left?” Felix asked.

Sam begrudgingly returned to his desk.


	26. Season 2, Episode 4

As Sam sat in history and did his best to inconspicuously stare at Felix, he furiously wondered how much longer he’d have to put up with this.

It wasn’t _fair_.

He’d always been a model student, focused on his classes and nothing else. Quiet, yes; reserved, definitely. Never in trouble, never distracted. Certainly never harboring inappropriate daydreams about a fellow student during school hours.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, you okay?”

Sam turned to look at Mason. “Yes. Why?”

“You looked upset,” Mason said. “Sure nothing’s wrong?”

Aside from being unable to concentrate on the lessons at hand because he was too busy being plagued by thoughts of Felix?

“I’m sure.”

Mason nodded, still wearing a slight frown. It happened to remind Sam of what he’d been meaning to ask.

“Felix and I are going to compete at the drama event. What do I need to know?”

Mason let out a sigh and said, “You’re lucky you have me.”

 

* * *

 

Yet again, Megan and Mason accompanied Sam at his table despite it not being one of their designated days for doing so.

Every now and then, Sam would spot Felix shooting looks at them from across the cafeteria, but he refrained from dropping by. That was just as well, because Sam was honing all his capacity to focus and aiming it directly at Mason’s words, taking mental notes on every last detail.

“And whatever you do, _don’t clap_. I had to find that out the hard way,” Mason said, narrowing his eyes at Megan, who covered her mouth with a gasp.

“I didn’t tell you!?”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Tell you what?” Sam asked, glancing between them.

Mason explained, “Since the judges are busy scoring performances and have to get through a bunch of them in about an hour, you’re not supposed to clap after any. It’s too noisy and takes up too much time. Instead, you do this.”

He raised his hands and rapidly twisted them back and forth.

_Finally_ , something Sam had picked up after all his time in drama. “Jazz hands,” he said.

“...Not exactly,” Mason replied.

Sam deflated.

“It’s silent applause,” Megan piped up. “Deaf people use it instead of clapping.”

Sam was glad to learn something new, even if it was because of what he’d previously learned turning out to be of no use.

 

* * *

 

Sam found himself out in the hallway with Felix again, reading through their script.

In truth, he could’ve memorized it over the weekend. Or more specifically, he could’ve if his capacity to focus on anything but Felix hadn’t been utterly annihilated since Saturday.

All Sam’s thoughts revolved around him. Felix, Felix, Felix. It was _constant_. The rare moments when he wasn’t remembering the way Felix had felt him up during their last study session, his mind would stray elsewhere, to greener—yet still Felix-related—pastures.

Things Felix had done, things Felix had said. Memories and imaginings. Sam’s thoughts occasionally even found their way back to that moment he’d tried so hard to forget about, back to Megan’s party and that fraction of a second where Felix’s fingers had accidentally brushed against his erection.

It _must’ve_ been accidentally, right? Sam liked to believe he’d grown decent at reading Felix’s mannerisms, and the way he’d acted afterwards certainly seemed to point towards it having been unintentional.

But what did that mean? It was clear Sam still held Felix’s interest in some capacity, but...

He didn’t know.

It was too confusing.

“ _Sam_.”

He blinked himself out of his daze.

Felix was watching him with narrowed eyes. “It’s your line,” he said, throwing a quick glance at Sam’s script. “Has been for a while. Where the fuck did you go off to?”

Sam looked down at his script, then back up at Felix.

They stared at each other in silence.

“...I apologize,” Sam said, starting to scan the page. He had no idea where he’d left off. “Line?”

Felix let out a low whistle. “Sheesh, this is as bad as a dog meowing. Seriously, did you get up on the wrong side of the bed or something?”

“Line?” Sam repeated, in no way prepared to delve into what had just been on his mind.

And still was.

_Constantly_.

Felix continued to stare at him, but pointed out the line in question, and their reading resumed.

 

* * *

 

“You better get to work on memorizing your lines if we wanna figure out the scene’s blocking.”

“Just as soon as you do,” Sam retorted without thinking.

Or rather, he _was_ thinking, but not about the matter at hand.

He almost missed Felix’s quiet scoff.

Neither of them spoke the rest of the way to the gym.

 

* * *

 

Sam tried, he really did.

By the end of the day, he’d managed to memorize his lines, give or take a blunder here and there.

It would have to do.

 

* * *

 

Megan and Mason sat with him at lunch again, but whatever conversation they may have had was completely lost on him.

They could’ve been insulting him to his face and he was none the wiser, wholly lost in the recesses of his mind.

He hated it.

 

* * *

 

Felix worked out their scene’s blocking on his own, with Sam content to simply do as he asked.

After all, it was easy to mindlessly follow orders when you had no mind worth speaking of.

 

* * *

 

He felt Felix’s eyes on him as they walked to the gym, but neither of them made an effort to talk.

 

* * *

 

Sam awoke to a considerably chillier day than usual, and when he looked outside, he was greeted to the sight of light snowfall— light enough to melt into the ground before any coating could form.

He barely spared it a thought.

 

* * *

 

Neither Megan nor Mason accompanied Sam at lunch, and that was perfectly understandable.

It was a Wednesday; they weren't supposed to have been there at all.

Even so, Sam couldn't help feeling as if his brooding had somehow chased them off.

 

* * *

 

He and Felix ran through their scene again and again and again, until the very end of class.

They didn’t speak aside from what was necessary.

 

* * *

 

By Thursday afternoon, Sam was convinced he’d never fully recover his mental faculties.

He’d seen the occasional romance movie, or show, or read a book. He _knew_ infatuation was a kind of obsession, an inescapable distortion of the infatuated party’s priorities and worldview. Unfortunately, that knowledge didn’t make him any more well-equipped to deal with said infatuation.

He only wished he could get himself marginally under control before his grades started slipping, though he supposed the fact that he was still concerned about his academic performance was a sign that not all hope was lost.

But as for what to do about Felix...

No, Sam had committed to doing nothing, so nothing he would do.

Nothing at all.

No bringing up what had happened, no asking what they were, no making any sort of attempt at emulating Felix’s actions thus far.

Even if Sam really wanted to.

Which he did.

 

* * *

 

“Good news, everyone,” Felix announced with a grin. “The scripts for our second play have arrived!”

Scattered applause and excited questions ensued.

Felix held his hands up. “Ah-ah-ah. All in due time. For now, Ms. Green and I will read through it and start talking about casting,” he said. “Nothing’s gonna be set in stone for a good while yet, so don’t worry, you’ve still got time to show us your stuff.”

“What’s the play?” asked one of the second-years.

“We’ll get to that,” Felix answered. “Let’s finish off our scene project first, and then we can talk about the play. Definitely before the competitions, so we all get something to look forward to.”

Felix waited a few seconds, looking out at them expectantly, but there were no more questions.

“Well, then!” he said, clapping his hands. “Back to scene practice!”

 

* * *

 

Report cards were handed out inside the gym again, and like always, Sam and Felix kept each other company during the process.

But they didn’t speak.

Sam hadn’t known Felix was capable of being quiet for so long.

Yet another Felix-related thing for him to dwell on.

 

* * *

 

Alright, that was _it_.

Sam had never thought of himself as liable to losing control, but there were first times for everything, including first times.

He had to do _something_.

But what?

_What?_

 

* * *

 

In a last ditch effort to get his mind on something other than Felix before he took any action he’d come to regret, Sam decided to spend his Saturday driving around town.

He’d done it once before, as well as accompanying his parents outside the house now and then, but he’d never explored the town to its fullest. The majority of its stores were unknown to him— a number which amounted to a mere handful given the town’s scant offerings.

Still, it was unexplored territory, which should be enough to distract him from Felix’s continuous presence in his thoughts.

 

* * *

 

Several stores later, he was no closer to achieving mental tranquility, but figured he might as well finish what he’d started.

With that in mind, he walked into the fifth store and stopped short.

“...Felix?”

Felix gave a violent start and tore his eyes away from his phone. “Sam!?”

Sam stared at him.

Felix stared back.

“You work here?”

Felix scowled and sat up. “Yeah...”

Sam tilted his head.

“It’s not exactly the highlight of my week, y’know. Filling in at the family store,” Felix muttered. “Good thing I hardly ever have to, just the rare day here and there. And you _had_ to come in _today_.”

He rolled his eyes and rapidly drummed his fingers on the counter, glaring somewhere off to the side. Sam stared at him a little longer, then looked around at their surroundings.

The store was small and mainly contained food products. The shelf nearest to him was stocked with pickle jars, with a handwritten sign above them declaring _LOCAL PRODUCE_. A quick glance around showed similar signs on other shelves, ones containing cheeses or candies.

No customers aside from himself, no staff aside from Felix.

Sam stepped up to the counter, drawing Felix’s glare.

“You don’t enjoy working here?” Sam asked.

“Would _you?”_ Felix shot back. “Why do you think I was so fucking desperate not to fail history? I said I wanted out of this town and I meant it. Who’d wanna work at their family’s store the rest of their life? And not even a cool store, but _this_.”

He stuck a hand into the candy-filled basket on the counter and pulled one out, asking, “You see these things? One of our specialties. Guess what? They’re fucking disgusting. So yeah, you tell me, Sammy. Do I enjoy working here?”

Sam said nothing, trying to process this new side of Felix. It was the opposite of getting his mind off of him, but still a welcome change in its own right, like finding the words to a melody you couldn’t forget.

Felix held the candy out. “Here, you want it? See for yourself how shitty it is.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Sam took it. He unwrapped it and looked it over. Oval shape, color akin to that of a raisin. A gentle squeeze confirmed its hard texture.

Felix watched him, arms crossed as if in challenge.

Sam brought it up to his mouth and tentatively placed it on his tongue.

A couple seconds passed.

Sam grabbed the wrapper and discreetly ejected the candy into it while Felix doubled over laughing.

“I told you!” Felix got out between laughs. “I swear that candy’s the perfect summary of what it’s like working here. Of what it’s like just _thinking about_ staying here forever.”

“Unfortunate,” Sam said, working his tongue around in an attempt to get the bitter taste out.

Felix watched him with a grin.

Mildly successful in his attempt, Sam stilled his tongue and asked, “But where will you go?”

Felix shrugged. “Got a couple relatives out west. They oughta be able to take me in for a while, at least until I work something out,” he said.

“Los Angeles?”

“Eh, something like that.”

Sam thought about Felix trying to succeed in Hollywood. It didn’t seem like the most stable of plans, but Felix wasn’t exactly the most stable of people, so Sam supposed it suited him.

“Now, then! That’ll be fifty cents,” Felix said, holding out a hand.

Sam frowned. “I was under the impression that it was a gift.”

“Sure, if you want it to be. I’d like to think my gifts aren’t that shitty though.”

Sam glanced around the store. “Is there anything you’d recommend?” he asked.

A wide smirk spread across Felix’s face. “Oh? What’s this, giving me your patronage after all?”

Sam nodded.

The smirk vanished and Felix blinked at him.

Sam maintained their eye contact.

“...Okay, I guess,” Felix said. He stepped out from behind the counter and walked past Sam, standing at the store’s center.

Holding out his arms, he announced, “Welcome to our humble establishment!” He slowly spun around and came to a stop facing Sam. “What sort of product might you be interested in today, kind sir?”

Annoying. Obnoxious. Insufferable.

But right then, Sam could only find Felix’s theatrics captivating.

 

* * *

 

Not long afterwards, Sam left the store with a small selection of cheeses and chocolates.

All in all, his plan for the day hadn’t worked out quite like he’d hoped it would, but it did work out better than he’d expected it to.

He was content.


	27. Season 2, Episode 5

Sam returned to school with a figurative weight off his shoulders and a metaphorical spring in his step.

He hadn’t been able to get Felix off his mind in the least, but that didn’t matter. He’d adapted.

The mind was like a highway. Thoughts in one direction, thoughts in the other. Sometimes traffic jams occurred, but those were eventually sorted out.

The way he saw it, he’d successfully constructed a new, specialized lane: The Felix Lane.

As long as his Felix thoughts stayed there, the rest of his mind’s traffic was free to continue operating as usual.

For an accomplishment that had no inherent academic value, he still felt incredibly self-satisfied.

 

* * *

 

“You seem better,” Mason commented.

Sam’s curiosity was piqued. Had he seemed unwell before?

“...Are you?” Mason asked.

“Yes.”

Mason let out a breath. “Good. Megan and I were starting to worry,” he said. “The last time you were that quiet was ages ago.”

Sam was surprised. Megan and Mason, worried about him? Keeping track of his temperament? He knew they were friends, but...

It was endearing.

“I apologize for worrying you.”

Mason waved a hand. “Don’t. It’s not your fault,” he said, then seemed to hesitate.

Sam watched him.

“How are things with Felix?” Mason asked, tone soft and uncertain.

Did he think the question would upset Sam?

“Fine,” Sam said. Then, to ensure Mason knew he wasn’t upset, he added, “I’m not upset.”

Hmm. Mason might interpret that to mean he wasn’t upset about Felix. And he wasn’t, though it hadn’t been his intended meaning. But how to clarify that?

“You can ask me.”

Mason’s brow furrowed. “Uh, sure. Hold on, I’ll get Megan,” he said, walking off towards Felix’s lunch table.

Sam down sat at his own and awaited their return.

 

* * *

 

He didn’t tell them the entire story.

Not about how one-track minded he’d been the past week, not about accidentally discovering Felix’s occasional workplace, and definitely not about how desperate he’d been for...

For _something_.

But he gave them a general idea. Without any specific examples, he went over how his friendship with Felix was sometimes confusing, how their accidental run-in over the weekend seemed to have broken the tension between them—tension that Sam himself had inadvertently built up—and how much less troubled he’d felt since then.

He finished his explanation and properly looked at Megan and Mason for the first time since he’d started it.

Mason looked mildly confused, somewhat disapproving, and generally unsurprised.

Megan held her head in one hand and also appeared unsurprised, yet one of her eyebrows was raised in what might have been judgement.

Sam raised one back at her.

“Oh, to be young and...” she trailed off, then shrugged. “In something.”

Subtle.

“Yes. Something.”

 

* * *

 

“This is your last practice week,” Felix told them. “It seems like you’ve all memorized your scenes, so take the opportunity to get all the kinks worked out and be ready to present next week!”

 

* * *

 

To Sam’s delight, his rehearsal with Felix was going smoothly.

Their runs through the scene were bookended by genuine banter, the mood easy and carefree.

Sam wondered if he alone was to blame for the past week’s tension. It was a very real possibility, given how rare it was for Felix to shut up to the extent that he had. In fact, Sam’s last memory of it was from months ago.

It had been because of Sam then too.

“...I make things awkward, don’t I?”

Felix stilled, then leaned against a wall and crossed his arms. “Kinda, yeah. Exhibit A: Asking that in the middle of rehearsal,” he said.

Sam frowned.

A long-suffering sigh left Felix. “Alright, what is it this time?” he asked, one hand going to his hip as he adjusted his stance. “The candy wasn’t _that_ bad, was it?”

Sam’s lips pulled up slightly, but his frown quickly returned.

“C’mon, man, gimme something to work with here,” Felix groaned.

“I don’t want things to be awkward,” Sam said. “But it keeps happening. Most of the time, it’s fine. I don’t mind it. Other times, it’s not fine, and I do mind it. But I can’t stop it.”

“Well... Wild idea, but hear me out: Have you tried _not_ being the walking embodiment of awkwardness?”

Sam glared at Felix.

“ _Kidding_. Geez, you could start with being able to take a joke, you know?”

“No, I don’t know,” Sam growled. “I’m asking for help, not jokes.”

“Help? _Me?”_ Felix asked, a laugh escaping him. “Somehow I don’t think you want help from _me_.”

“I do. You’re the one I keep making things awkward with.”

Felix’s amused expression faded and he went quiet.

They silently watched each other.

“...Sammy, I’m pretty sure you make things awkward with everybody,” he finally said.

“Maybe so,” Sam replied.

Silence again.

Felix crossed his arms and glared down the hall.

Sam said nothing.

The muffled chatter from inside the classroom was their only indication that time was passing.

“I dunno,” Felix spoke. “I already told you to just talk about your issues. Which I guess you are.” He sighed again. “So yeah. You’re on the right track.”

The right track was talking about his issues? By that logic, he should ask all the questions that had been plaguing his mind recently.

No, by _that_ logic, Felix should be providing answers to those questions. In fact, he should’ve answered them before they even became questions.

Why was he interested in Sam? Did he have a goal in mind for them? What exactly was he trying to accomplish with all of his touches?

“Are _you_ on the right track?” Sam asked.

Felix raised an eyebrow, but no derision accompanied it. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“Talking about your issues. Do you?”

“Wh— Issues? I don’t have any issues. Unless you mean having to sell shitty candy now and then, in which case, yeah, that’s a pretty big issue,” Felix scoffed. “You already heard all about that though, so there you have it. Issue talked about. Ta-da!”

Sam squinted at Felix. It was clear he was being defensive, but if _he_ refused to bring up what was happening between them, and if _Sam_ refused to bring it up, then...

“So we have nothing to talk about,” Sam concluded.

“I— What?”

“Us. We’ve already said all we needed to.”

“...Sure?”

Sam nodded, and promptly spouted his next line. The abrupt continuation of their rehearsal seemed to catch Felix off guard, but he answered with his own line after a brief pause.

They were back into the swing of things within seconds.

 

* * *

 

“Our scene’s pretty much perfect, I think,” Felix said. “Either way, we’ll perform it next week, and we can keep practicing the week after, then there’s a whole other week, and on that weekend we compete. Excited?”

“Moderately. Mason told me a bit about what to expect.”

Felix smirked. “Yeah? Lucky you. Still, I hope he left some surprises.”

He better have _not_.

 

* * *

 

“How’s everything going in school?”

“Fine,” Sam said. “There’s going to be a drama event in a month.”

His mother raised her eyebrows.

“They’ll give us papers for you to sign, to give us permission.”

“Permission for what?” his father asked.

“It’s that the event’s in another city.”

He proceeded to recount all the details he remembered, including his newfound knowledge of silent applause. When he finished, his parents bombarded him with questions, their main one being, “And you’re going to compete!?”

He nodded.

Their questions began anew.

It was going to be a long dinner.

 

* * *

 

He eventually assured his parents that he and Felix would perform the scene for them sometime during the next study session, but neglected to mention that they could sign up as chaperones to attend the event itself.

There were a few things that just had to be done with some measure of independence.

 

* * *

 

“We have to perform for my parents.”

Felix gave him a curious look.

“When you come study on Saturday,” Sam explained. “I told them about the event and that we’re competing, so they want to see.”

“Sure, why not? You know they can just sign on as chaperones if they wanna come though, right?”

Sam nodded and said nothing more.

Felix laughed.

“Gotcha’.”

 

* * *

 

The week proceeded as usual, with the most eventful thing to occur being the increase in snowfall.

It wasn’t as much as it could’ve been, but it did leave a notable dusting of white over everything.

Sam started wearing earmuffs and Felix’s lips pressed together every time his eyes landed on them.

 

* * *

 

“Are you ready?” Sam asked as soon as Felix exited his car.

“That I am,” said Felix, rubbing his arms and briskly walking up to Sam’s house. “Sure you wanna do our scene right off the bat?”

Sam nodded. “Yes. Then we’ll be free to go study.”

Among other things.

 

* * *

 

“Oh, Sami, that was so good! You too, Felix! Both of you were wonderful!”

Sam let himself be crushed in his mother’s arms while Felix gleefully looked on.

Sam’s father piped up, “Yes, that was great! What was the scene from?”

“Oh, nothing, I wrote it myself,” Felix said.

Sam’s mother looked at Felix. “Really?” she asked. “You wrote that?”

Felix nodded proudly.

“Wow,” she breathed. “Good job!”

He took an exaggerated bow.

 

* * *

 

A healthy portion of praise later, Sam and Felix retreated to begin their studies.

“You get along really well with your parents, don’t you?” Felix asked as he hopped on the bed.

Sam sat down at his desk. “Yes.”

“Cute,” Felix said. “Mine don’t really give a shit about me.”

Sam tilted his head. Felix didn’t _seem_ neglected with that personality of his.

“Not that that’s a bad thing. I wouldn’t get away with half the stuff I do if they actually paid attention.”

Now that Sam thought about it, he’d never heard Felix talk about his family at all. And what about those three performances in the auditorium? Sam’s parents had attended every single one, but had Felix’s?

“Anyway, let’s get started on the chapter,” Felix said with a nod towards the textbook.

Sam complied.

 

* * *

 

For once, it was Sam who interrupted their studying.

“What’s your family like?” he asked.

Felix’s head lifted up and sleepily blinked at him, then dropped back onto the bed.

Sam waited.

“Annoying, mostly,” Felix said.

Sam refrained from pointing out the resemblance.

“Also kind of terrible. But mostly annoying.”

“...Terrible?”

Felix shrugged, still facing the ceiling. “Hard to explain. Guess you just had to be there.”

Sam considered that.

Felix’s head turned towards him. “What’s got your panties in a bunch?” he asked. “Don’t tell me you’re worried about my home life now.”

“.....”

“...Holy shit, you _are_.”

“.....”

Felix let out a strangled laugh and flipped over to fully face Sam, propping himself up on an arm. “Don’t be,” he said. “I’m not getting mistreated or anything, just ignored.”

“.....”

“Quit giving me that look and get back to reading the chapter,” Felix said with a roll of his eyes.

Sam did.

 

* * *

 

“Is that what I think it is?”

Sam glanced over to see Felix getting up from the bed and approaching. He stopped beside the desk and reached out a hand towards—

Sam yanked the friend journal away before Felix could get to it.

“ _Wow_. I bought you that thing, the least you could do is let me see it,” Felix said, crossing his arms.

“It’s private.”

Felix tapped a finger to his chin and looked off to the side. “Hmm... If I’m remembering right, I made you promise to use it. How can I know you’ve kept your promise if you won’t let me see it?”

Sam said nothing.

Felix stared at him as politely as a person could.

The journal felt heavy in Sam’s hands. He _could_ show it to Felix... There wasn’t anything _that_ embarrassing in it, was there?

He racked his mind for what he’d filled out so far.

 

* * *

 

**_Best friends are great, but so are crushes! Who’s your crush? What about your best friend’s?_**

**** **** ******Our crushes are probably mutual.  
**

 

* * *

 

Sam gripped the journal tighter.

Felix began grinding his jaw.

“...It’s private,” Sam repeated.

Felix huffed. “There’s gotta be _something_ in it you can show me,” he said. “Look, I’ll even wait. You find a nice page for me and I’ll leave the rest alone. Sound good?”

In theory, yes.

In practice...

“What, don’t believe me? Here,” Felix said, plopping himself into Sam’s lap. “I won’t even touch it. You just hold up the page so I can see.”

Felix was going to kill him one of these days.

Sam grudgingly flipped through the pages near the back of the journal and stopped at one, holding it open in front of Felix’s face.

There was a moment of silence.

“You know, I should’ve seen this coming,” Felix muttered, glaring at him over the top of the journal.

“The page asked for phone numbers. I filled in phone numbers.”

“Yeah. You did.”

Sam opened the desk drawer farthest from Felix’s reach and deposited the journal into it, then found himself faced with a new problem.

Felix was still in his lap and showed no signs of getting up. On the contrary, he adjusted his legs to better drape over one of the chair’s armrests and leaned his upper body into Sam’s. With a slight change in position, he’d likely be able to tuck his head right under Sam’s chin.

“Well? The chapter isn’t gonna read itself.”

Either Felix was going to kill him, or he was going to kill Felix.


	28. Season 2, Episode 6

Though Sam had spotted the garish flyers newly strewn across the school, he hadn’t taken the time to actually read any.

It wasn’t until he walked by a table lined with them that he got curious.

Upon its surface was an assortment of items, and behind it sat a member of the school staff. He’d seen her around throughout the year, but still had no idea what she did.

Regardless, he doubted it was related to her current duty of...

He had no idea what that was either.

There were people going up to the table, speaking to her, giving her _money_ , in exchange for what appeared to be colorful slips of paper. Those people would then take up one of the many markers on display and use it to scribble something on the paper before returning it to her.

They didn’t even keep the marker.

Sam was perplexed.

He slowly neared the table, trying to get a better look. His eyes fell on one of the flyers hanging off its side, and he took the time to read it at last.

 

* * *

 

**CHOCOLATE AND CHERRY ROSES**

**_Send that special someone something special!_**  
**_Pick your choice of sweetness, and write your sweetie a message!_**  
**_No sweetie? No problem! Your friends will love a rose too!_**  
**{All roses will be delivered on Valentine’s Day}**

 

* * *

 

What he’d observed instantly made sense.

Sam looked back up at the table and its line of prospective clients. He hadn’t thought so many people would be interested in such a thing, but what did he know? It wasn’t as if he’d ever been the recipient of such a gesture, nor enacted it for someone else.

He briefly entertained the mental image of getting one for Felix, but stopped short when he realized he didn’t even know whether chocolate or cherry would go over best.

Unfortunate.

 

* * *

 

Felix decided their scene would be the last performed.

It wasn’t something Sam was particularly pleased about, but he agreed to it all the same.

In a way, it wasn’t as bad as the other times he’d performed anything other than first. Having the absolute certainty of when it would be his turn, even if that turn was at the very end, was a considerable improvement over the mounting guilt that came with each performance opportunity he needlessly let go by.

For a change, he sat at his desk and relaxed, enjoying the day’s performances in relative peace.

 

* * *

 

“Meg and Mace were great, huh? But they always are, so no surprise there,” Felix commented.

“Yes,” Sam agreed, thoughts elsewhere.

He wondered if there was any possible way for him to get away with asking Felix’s preference in sweets.

No, Sam wasn’t about to buy him a rose, but it’d be nice to know. It would satisfy his curiosity and might even come in handy down the line.

Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

Felix sighed. “What is it this time?” he asked, sounding resigned.

Sam stamped out his usual impulse to deflect and took a chance, asking, “Do you prefer chocolate or cherry?”

“...What?”

“Sweets,” Sam said. “Which type do you prefer?”

Felix said nothing, watching him with a calculating look.

Sam carefully maintained eye contact.

“Why are you asking?”

“I was curious.”

“Uh-huh. I bet you were,” Felix said, tone oddly neutral.

They were nearing the gym, but right as Sam was about to lose hope that he’d ever get an answer, Felix provided one.

“I’m good with either. Or both, that works too.”

 

* * *

 

Sam found himself dreaming up scenario after scenario of gifting Felix a sweet rose, which somehow managed to be a step-up from the majority of his daydreams.

Even so, the idea of paying the school to deliver one on his part seemed a bit silly. If he really wanted to make a statement, why not deliver it himself? It didn’t even have to be directly given to Felix in order to have a more personal touch.

It could be left on his desk, tucked into his locker door, or even left on his car’s windshield. There were all manner of ways to keep it personal while avoiding the embarrassment that surely came with handing over botany-themed confectionery.

Not that Sam would ever act on any of those possibilities.

 

* * *

 

“Have either of you bought Valentine’s Day roses?”

Megan and Mason stared at him.

“It’s supposed to be a surprise...” Mason said.

Sam nodded. “But is it worth it?”

“Worth it how?” Megan asked.

That was a good question. One that Sam couldn’t begin to think of an answer for, so he gave a helpless shrug instead.

The twin looks of pity he received felt completely warranted.

 

* * *

 

“So how's Felix?”

Sam looked up curiously. “Fine,” he said.

His mother started working on the dough he'd just handed her. “Yeah? Have you both kept practicing your scene?”

“Not together, but on Friday we’ll do it in class.”

She smiled. “You think it’ll go well for you?”

Sam nodded.

“Fantastic,” she replied, holding out a hand for another lump of dough. “Hey, and... Felix has never invited you to study at his house?”

Sam shook his head.

“Hmm. You don’t know how his parents are?”

Sam shook his head again.

His mother stayed quiet, apparently focused on shaping the dough she was working on. Once she finished with it and Sam handed her another lump, she asked, “And nothing interesting’s happened?”

He tilted his head. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. Something strange or new.”

“...No...”

His mother looked him dead in the eyes and Sam froze up.

The moment passed and she turned back to her dough with a content, “Okay.”

 

* * *

 

Sam started going out of his way to pass by the sweet rose table.

He _could_ get one. Or even two. He had the money in his pocket, having carefully placed it there that morning.

But should he?

He didn’t know.

 

* * *

 

“...Sam?”

“Yes?”

“Where are you going?”

“The cafeteria,” Sam said, blatantly walking in the opposite direction.

Mason appeared unconvinced. “Are you really?”

“Yes.”

For all his apparent skepticism, Mason remained at Sam’s side.

Sam led them to the very end of one of the buildings, held the door open for Mason, and proceeded to walk down the hall.

Towards the cafeteria.

“...Sam?”

“Yes?”

“Are we going this way just to go by the roses?”

Sam said nothing.

Mason sighed.

 

* * *

 

“Sam, don’t.”

He gave Megan a curious look.

“You’re gonna scare off Felix if you buy him one,” she explained. “Seriously, don’t.”

“Scare him off how?” he asked, but followed Megan away from the rose table.

He thought back to Felix’s reaction at being asked his sweets preferences. It seemed like he’d known what Sam had in mind, and hadn’t objected to it.

Megan bit at her lip. “Just... Remember those stories I told you? About how he’s gotten obsessed with people before?”

Sam nodded.

“Well.... I don’t know. He’s never had one of his obsessions return his interest. And yeah, I’m pretty sure you’ve already made it clear that you do, but not _that_ clear. There’s a difference between being open and actually making a move back at him.”

Sam considered that. It reflected his own thoughts on the matter, but...

“He didn’t seem to have any problems with it.”

Megan’s mouth fell open. “You _told_ him?”

“I asked him whether he preferred chocolate or cherry.”

“ _Sam_ ,” Megan groaned. “I can’t believe you.”

They came to a stop outside literature and she turned to fully face him.

“If you’ve thought about it and you’re sure you wanna do it, then do it,” she said. “Just know that it’s a _really_ bold move— one that I wouldn’t do if I were in your place, mostly because I have no idea how he’d react. Okay?”

“...Okay.”

 

* * *

 

Sam thought about it long and hard.

In a way, the whole thing was unusually impulsive of him. Wanting to buy Felix a sweet rose simply because the option was there? Because Sam was growing frustrated with their extended game of cat and mouse?

...Was it cat and mouse if Sam wasn’t running away?

Maybe not.

But if it was...

Should the mouse chase the cat?

 

* * *

 

It was Valentine’s Day.

Sam had the money.

Could he?

 

* * *

 

He couldn’t.

 

* * *

 

They were at lunch when the roses started being handed out by student volunteers.

Predictably, a chocolate rose was delivered to Megan, prompting one of her and Mason’s chaste kisses. Barely a minute later, a cherry one was delivered to Mason, prompting yet another kiss.

Sam dejectedly glanced towards Felix’s table.

Oh.

That was certainly a bouquet in the making.

But who would buy Felix roses? Assuming each one came from a different person, that was far too many people buying him roses. And if it was a case of more than one rose from each person, that was far too many roses for people to buy him.

No, Sam wasn’t jealous.

 

* * *

 

“I wasn’t aware you had so many admirers.”

“It’s not _that_ hard to believe, is it?” Felix asked, unwrapping one of his roses.

“No...”

Felix stuck the cherry rose in his mouth, sucking on it a bit before pulling it out and murmuring, “Hey, wanna hear a secret?”

Sam raised an eyebrow.

“Out of all these,” Felix indicated, giving the bouquet a shake, “only about three aren’t mine. The rest I bought for myself.”

Sam stared.

Felix stuck the cherry rose back in his mouth.

“...‘About’ three?” Sam asked.

Felix furrowed his brow and looked off to the side. He shrugged and pulled out the rose. “Fine, three.”

“Why ‘about’?”

“Slip of the tongue,” Felix said with his second shrug in less than a minute.

 

* * *

 

“Ready for our scene tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“We should practice again,” Felix said, heading away from the parking lot. “C’mon.”

Sam wordlessly followed him, and before long, they were in the hall outside the library. It was where Felix had helped Sam with his breathing and projection so many months ago.

He didn’t get a chance to feel much more than basic nostalgia before Felix started complaining, ruining the mood.

“Can you believe Ms. Green still hasn’t given me the auditorium keys? I mean, come on, it’s not like she’s gonna use them for anything. Besides, sooner or later I’m gonna need to be in there, fixing up everything for the second play.”

“It’s probably against school regulations,” Sam suggested, laying his bag on the floor beside Felix’s things.

“I’m pretty sure getting a student to teach the class you’re supposed to be subbing for is also against regulations, but when has that ever stopped her?”

That was admittedly a good point.

Felix moved to stand in the middle of the hall and clapped his hands together.

Sam took his own position.

They began their scene.

 

* * *

 

Three runs through it later, the school seemed considerably emptier. The distant chatter was all but gone, and they’d stopped seeing people walk by in the distance.

“I think we’ve got it down, don’t you?” Felix cheerfully asked, walking over to his things and getting back to work on sucking his cherry rose.

Sam nodded.

“Now we’re definitely ready to perform tomorrow.”

“Yes.”

Felix picked up the rest of his things and Sam slung his bag over his shoulder, turning to leave.

“Hey, hold on.”

Sam turned back around.

“Chocolate or cherry?” Felix asked, holding out two of his roses.

“.....”

Felix gave them a shake. “C’mon, I’ve got more than enough.”

“.....”

“Or do you want both? Greedy, hm?”

Felix brought the roses together and offered them to Sam.

A few seconds passed.

Sam hesitantly took them.

“There you go,” Felix grinned, then turned on his heel and began walking away. “See you tomorrow, Sammy!”

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t until Sam got home that it occurred to him to check the sweet roses’ tags.

They were both addressed to Felix as he’d expected, but the attached messages?

 

* * *

 

**_ROSES ARE RED,  
VIOLETS ARE BLUE..._**

**_...I’M FUCKING AWESOME,  
BUT YOU’RE PRETTY GOOD TOO_**

 

* * *

 

There were moments where Sam doubted everything.

Yes, it was unlikely that he’d completely imagined up the situation between himself and Felix, particularly given Megan’s input on the matter, but stranger things had happened.

There were moments where Sam felt completely certain about everything.

He and Felix had been dancing around each other for months, and if Sam made a move, not only would it be accepted, but welcomed with open arms.

And then there were moments like this, where Sam had no idea what to think.

 

* * *

 

He didn’t tell his parents about the sweet roses.

 

* * *

 

Felix acted like he always did, sending Sam the same looks as usual, giving him a quick thanks after the history test like every other time, and generally doing nothing out of the ordinary.

Sam debated whether or not he should tell Mason about the roses. If he did, Mason was sure to tell Megan, and she was sure to come sit at his table during lunch, and they were both sure to drag him into a conversation that he was absolutely not ready to have on a Friday.

 

* * *

 

He said nothing.

 

* * *

 

Halfway through drama, only one scene was left: Sam and Felix’s.

In Sam’s opinion, they performed well. Not that he trusted his opinion to be the pinnacle of accuracy when it came to the performing arts—particularly when he himself was involved—but they both did what they’d done during rehearsals, which was generally a good sign.

Applause sounded throughout the room when they finished. A quick bow later, Felix asked for critiques. After a few floundering attempts from some people, he called an end to the critiquing segment and motioned for Sam to return to his seat.

“That’s it for this week then,” Felix said. “I’m happy to say you all gave Ms. Green and I plenty to work with. We’ll _try_ to get casting finalized by the end of next week, but there’s a lot of roles, so some of you are gonna be playing two or more. Not to mention that we’re gonna need techies too. Still, we’ll make sure to sort everything out the best we can.”

His words prompted a flurry of questions, mostly concerning the play and what the next week would consist of.

He calmly brought a finger to his lips.

The room was quiet again.

Felix proceeded to give some details about the play. Namely, that it was actually a series of scenes connected by an overarching narrative, as well as a parody of its source material.

And as to the matter of what they’d be doing the next week?

“Hope you’re all ready to learn the ins and outs of improv.”


	29. Season 2, Episode 7

Over the course of the extended weekend, the snowfall had lessened until it was melting as soon as it hit the ground on Monday afternoon.

Sam was on one of his walks up the street, watching the snow disappear before his eyes, when he remembered he had a confidant. There was no need for him to brood over Felix in solitude, he could simply text Diana and tell her all about the sweet roses— which, yes, remained uneaten in one of his desk drawers.

He couldn’t look at them anymore if he ate them, could he?

 

* * *

 

Once he returned to his room, he sent Diana a text in greeting, and she replied within seconds.

From there, the conversation flowed easily.

He went over everything that had happened since they last spoke: The accidental discovery of Felix’s workplace, the dilemma of the sweet roses, and of course, the continued advances during the study sessions.

At the end of it all, Diana’s judgement was simple.

 

* * *

 

[INCOMING]  
you’re both dumbasses

 

* * *

 

A little over an hour later, she excused herself and the conversation ended.

Sam thought back on it as he sat at his desk.

As before, she’d advised him to make some sort of move. Not necessarily an overt one, but an unmistakable one.

He couldn’t begin to fathom what that meant. Unmistakable but not overt? Surely the two were contradictory? If they weren’t, any examples proving so had to be few and far between.

No matter how he looked at the situation, his options were limited.

 

* * *

 

The biology teacher announced they’d spend the week watching a documentary.

Unlike the last time, she didn’t hand out accompanying worksheets, something which the majority of the class seemed pleased about.

Sam was torn.

On one hand, it meant he wouldn’t be distracted from his Felix-related thoughts.

On the other hand, it meant he wouldn’t be distracted from his Felix-related thoughts.

 

* * *

 

“Felix gave me roses.”

For once, Mason’s reaction preceded Megan’s.

“ _What?”_ he asked, shooting a look towards Felix’s table. “When?”

Surprised, Sam answered, “Friday, after school. He gave me two of his. I think. He said he’d gotten them for himself, but maybe he’d always planned on giving me a couple. I don’t know.”

Mason scowled and Megan sent him a warning look.

Sam glanced between them in confusion. “What is it?”

“Mason thinks Felix is messing with you,” Megan said with a frown.

Sam tilted his head.

Mason huffed.

“But he’s not,” she went on. “Trust me, he wouldn’t go this far just to mess with you.”

Mason shook his head. “That’s not what I’m saying. He’s not messing with Sam, he’s _using_ him!”

“Then why would he keep trying to win Sam over? It’s February! It’s been months. Besides, you’ve seen how he gets when he’s obsessed, and this is just like that,” Megan refuted.

Mason shook his head again. “No, he’s definitely obsessed, but I’m not talking about that. He can be obsessed and still try to use people. And I’m sorry, but Sam’s my friend too, so I’m not just going to sit here and act like it’s _good_ that Felix is interested in him. That’s all I’ve done this whole time!”

Sam sent a quick look towards Felix’s table.

To his horror, Felix chose that exact moment to look back, as if sensing he was being talked about.

Sam averted his eyes just as Megan spoke again.

“You’re being too harsh, Mace. Yeah, we all know Felix can be kind of terrible, but that doesn’t mean he’s... I don’t know, whatever you’re accusing him of. At the end of the day, we’re all still friends. We can’t go around thinking the worst about each other!”

“You’ve got it all wrong,” Mason replied. “I’m not saying he’s a bad person, just that he’s bad _for Sam_. And probably for a lot of other people too, actually. Which is fine! Not everyone’s great for everyone. But why should I stay quiet when I can stop something bad before it happens?”

Sam sent another look Felix’s way.

Felix was still looking back.

“What could be so bad? What could _possibly_ be so incredibly bad that you have to _stop it?_ For that matter, what makes you so sure that Felix is bad for Sam? What’s he ever done that’s _so terrible?”_

“Gee, I don’t know, what _has_ he done? What about how he treated his old obsessions? The way he went out of his way to fuck them over the minute he realized they weren’t gonna give him what he wanted? What about _that!?_ Or the time we b—?”

“ _Mace!”_

Both of them were breathing hard and staring each other down, faces contorted in anger.

Finally, Mason sat back with a scoff. “He’s my friend, Meg, but that doesn’t mean I have to excuse everything he does.”

Sam looked towards Felix again.

He was in the middle of regaling his own table with a story of some sort.

Sam looked back at Megan and Mason, who were glaring down at their lunches.

With a sinking feeling in his gut, Sam proceeded to do the same.

 

* * *

 

The walk out of the cafeteria was spent in silence.

Mason headed towards the gym without a word, and Megan carried on to literature, also without a word.

Sam felt guilty.

 

* * *

 

“I’m sure you newbies have all gotten a decent understanding of how to do improv by now,” Felix spoke, tossing a marker up and down. “We’re still gonna go over some basic improv rules though.”

He uncapped the marker and began writing on the whiteboard.

“First rule—well, the only rule, really—is ‘Yes, And’,” he said, reading out what he’d just written. “What does that mean? Simple: When you’re doing a scene and someone says something, you say yes. Then, because it’s not enough to just say yes, you add something. Need an example? Here’s one. Sammy!”

Sam sat up straighter.

“There’s a killer rabbit on the loose!”

“...Unfortunate.”

Felix shook his head. “New choice,” he said, invoking one of the class’s usual games.

“We should catch it,” Sam tried.

“New choice.”

“We should run.”

“We’re in luck, I’ve got my bike right here.”

“Let’s go...?”

“Excellent,” Felix said. “Great job, Sammy.”

Sam felt his insides flutter at the praise.

“Now, what did we learn from that? Well, Sam had the ‘yes’ part down pat from the very start. The problem was the ‘and’. I think we’d all agree that a killer rabbit being on the loose is unfortunate, but that’s not gonna get us anywhere,” Felix said, underlining the ‘and’ on the whiteboard.

He continued, “I asked for a new choice and he gave me one, but then I asked for another. Why? No reason. Both choices were as good as each other, though the scenes would’ve ended up pretty different. The point is that they were both ‘yes, and’ choices. ‘Yes, the rabbit’s on the loose and we should catch it’ and ‘yes, the rabbit’s on the loose and we should run’. Both work.”

He began twirling the marker between his fingers. “As for the rest of the scene,” he went on, “I took him up on the running thing: ‘Yes’. I mentioned that I had a bike: ‘And’. He said ‘let’s go’, which yeah, sounds like a ‘yes’, but really’s more of an ‘and’. ‘Yes, you have a bike and let’s go on it’.”

A newbie piped up, “What if he’d said no?”

“In theory, a scene could still work. The problem there is, unless you’ve got something in mind, you’re making the other person do all the work. Okay, so there’s not a killer rabbit on the loose. Then what? Is there something on the loose or isn’t there? If there isn’t, why did I just say there is? Or maybe there really is, but if it’s not a rabbit, what is it? Too many questions,” Felix explained.

He tossed the marker back and forth. “On the other hand, imagine he’d said ‘no, it’s a killer dragon’. First off, how’d I mistake a rabbit for a dragon? That might make for a good joke, but it’s not gonna work for an ongoing scene. If Sam’s trying to set up a punchline, I’m just gonna be in his way, because I’ll have no idea what that punchline is or how he’s trying to get there.”

Sam avidly watched Felix stroll around as he talked, hands constantly in motion.

“Which brings me to the next ‘rule’,” Felix said, scribbling on the board again. “‘Avoid questions’. Notice I say ‘avoid’ and not ‘don’t ask’, the same way I’m not calling this a hard-and-fast rule. Questions can work, especially if they’re fake questions. What do I mean by that? Sammy!”

Sam jumped to attention.

“You don’t think that killer rabbit escaped from the science wing, do you?”

“...Yes, I do. It’s full of killer rabbits.”

An abrupt laugh left Felix. “Well, shit, let’s pedal this bike faster then,” he said, turning back to the whiteboard and underlining ‘avoid’.

“That was clearly a leading question on my part,” he said. “Sam could’ve said no and suggested something else, but he didn’t have to, not when the ‘yes’ was so much easier. But if I’d asked him where the killer rabbit escaped from, I would’ve _forced_ him to think of something. So yeah, avoid questions unless you’re sure they’re not really questions.”

Felix turned to write on the whiteboard again and read out, “Final rule: Just go with the flow. People will tell you there’s more rules, but honestly? It all boils down to this, including the first two. ‘Yes, And’— don’t fight the flow. ‘Avoid questions’— don’t interrupt the flow. Don’t try to be funny, or throw in a punchline, or make your scene partner do your work for you. Go with the flow.”

 

* * *

 

“Did Megan and Mason have a fight?”

Sam gave Felix a confused look.

“I’ve seen enough of their fights to know one when I see it,” Felix said. “They don’t have a lot, but with how lovey-dovey they usually are, it’s kinda impossible not to tell when they’re fighting.”

Sam frowned. The day’s lesson on improv had been a great distraction from the lunchtime argument, but now the guilt came rushing back.

“What’s up?” Felix asked.

“It was because of me,” Sam said. “I said something that made them argue.”

Felix rolled his eyes. “Pshhh, so what? You feel bad? Let ’em fight, that’s what couples do. Can’t always agree on everything.”

Sam wondered which side Felix would agree with.

 

* * *

 

Once again, their physical education class took place in the gym’s meeting room.

As the coach-turned-teacher began on what was almost certainly another series of lessons lasting the week, Felix let out a long-suffering sigh.

Sam found himself agreeing with the sentiment.

 

* * *

 

Mason was silent as they walked to the cafeteria, and though he and Megan sat together at Felix’s table, they seemed to avoid looking at each other or speaking directly.

Guilt ate away at Sam.

 

* * *

 

Felix spent drama going through all the improv games they’d played so far.

He listed them all on the whiteboard, categorized them, and analyzed them.

It was as fascinating and entertaining as all of Felix’s lessons, but the minute it ended, the guilt was back.

 

* * *

 

On Thursday, Felix was absent.

The day progressed as it always did, down to Megan and Mason joining Sam for lunch.

Their conversation was civil, though they studiously avoided the topic of Felix, Sam’s interest in Felix, and the roses from Felix.

In other words, it was terribly awkward.

But as long as Megan and Mason were talking again, Sam was happy.

 

* * *

 

Drama, as always, devolved into improv games.

The fact that Sam now had the knowledge to deconstruct those scenes into their basic components enhanced his enjoyment.

He still found himself missing Felix’s presence.

 

* * *

 

By Friday, Mason was acting like he always did, and judging by Megan’s attitude on the way to literature, she was too.

Sam hadn’t thought it possible to feel so relieved on others’ behalf.

 

* * *

 

After their physical education test, their interim reports were handed out.

As had become the norm, Felix’s history grade steadily climbed higher.

In contrast, there was a small yet noticeable dip in Sam’s.

“Aww, what’s the matter? Not studying as hard as you used to?” Felix asked, eyeing his report.

“...Something like that.”

 

* * *

 

Halfway through their study session, Felix spoke up, “You ever just wanna fuck people that you’re not sure you can?”

Sam spun around, but to his bewilderment, Felix wasn’t even remotely looking at him, instead staring at the ceiling.

“How so?” Sam asked.

“Like... You’d totally fuck ’em if they asked, but they probably never will, and there’s no way you ever will, so you’re stuck.”

Sam frowned. Was this Felix’s roundabout way of propositioning him? It was somewhat extreme, to say the least. But no, something about it didn’t read like that.

“Isn’t that how it usually goes?” Sam tried.

Felix sighed, eyes still fixed on the ceiling. “Yeah, I guess.”

Sam waited, but Felix said nothing more, so back to the textbook it was.

 

* * *

 

To Sam’s chagrin, the rest of the study session went oddly well.

By others’ standards anyway.

By _his_ standards, it didn’t go well at all, not when he’d begun looking forward to the sessions as much for Felix’s unexpected advances as for the studying itself.

“Something on your mind, Sammy?” Felix asked.

Again, Sam imagined he should speak up at that point.

Instead, all he said was, “No.”

 

* * *

 

Several well-wishes on the upcoming competition from his parents later, Sam and Felix were stepping out of the house and into the brisk winter air.

“ _Fuck_ , it’s cold,” Felix hissed, rubbing at his bare arms.

“You should wear warmer clothes,” Sam advised.

“No way, I’d rather be cold outside for a few minutes than hot and stuffy the whole time I’m indoors. Besides, you can’t look stylish in an old hoodie. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

Sam said nothing as he followed Felix to his car.

“C’mon, let’s sit in here and talk awhile,” Felix said, unlocking its doors.

Not needing to be told twice, Sam opened the passenger door and settled in, shutting it behind himself. Felix started the engine, and they sat shivering in silence until the car began to warm up.

“Phew, that’s better,” Felix commented as he relaxed back in his seat. “Moving away’s gonna be worth it just for the weather, honestly.”

“When would you move?” Sam asked.

Felix shrugged. “Soon as I can. Maybe even after finals. Why stick around for graduation? All I need’s the diploma, the school can keep the gown and boring-ass ceremony.”

Sam supposed Felix had a point. It did all seem a bit ostentatious, though he doubted that specific aspect of it was one that Felix personally found objectionable.

“Hey, Sam?”

He turned to look at Felix. “Yes?”

“You got plans after high school?”

That was an _extremely_ touchy subject. Sam was barely able to make choices that would only minimally affect him in the short term, so what made Felix think he was in any way capable of deciding what he wanted to do with his first breath of academic freedom since entering the school system?

“I don’t know,” he said.

Felix stared at him.

Sam stared back.

“Would you come to California with me?” Felix asked.

“...What?”

“I mean... It’s an option,” Felix said, looking away and fastening his seat belt. “Like, if you really don’t have any plans, y’know? Just saying, you should think about it. Maybe even get an acting career out of it.”

“According to you, it’s notoriously difficult, if not impossible, to get your big break in Hollywood,” Sam pointed out.

Felix frowned. “Well... _Yeah_. But we could at least try, right?”

Sam considered that.

“We could.”


	30. Season 2, Episode 8

“I’m sure you’re all dying to know more about our next play,” Felix said, eyes carefully roving over them all.

The energy in the room was nearly palpable.

Felix gestured towards Ms. Green and said, “After a whole lot of talking over the past week, I’m pleased to announce that Ms. Green and I have _almost_ finalized the cast list.”

A ripple of murmured questions sounded out.

“Yes, yes, I know you’re disappointed. I’ll be honest, it’s mostly the secondary roles that are giving us problems,” Felix said, then drew himself up with a smirk. “After all, we’re pretty sure of who we want our stars to be.”

A few disbelieving laughs were heard, but Felix continued talking.

“Now, if any of you would rather work backstage, or are fine with having more than one secondary role, that’s also doable, just let Ms. Green know sometime this week,” he said. “All that aside, I know this whole thing’s kind of a mess, but that’s what happens when a teacher decides to go missing the whole year.”

“She _had a baby_ ,” someone called out.

“And we’re all _very_ happy for her,” Felix said, tone dripping sarcasm. “Still, unless that baby’s ready to come in and recite Shakespeare, it’s no good to us right now.” He graced them all with a pleasant smile and added, “Not that I’m complaining though. It’s not everyday you get to teach high schoolers for free.”

He cleared his throat. “ _Anyway_ , on to our next order of business,” he said, pointing at the drama event’s flyer. “We’re competing this Saturday, which means we’re pretty much gonna use the whole week to rehearse our stuff. A decent number of you signed up, which brings me to my next point: Chaperones.”

Felix spent the next ten minutes detailing how one of the school’s teachers had already volunteered to help Ms. Green, but due to the varied ages of the students who’d signed up, one more adult was needed.

“Ms. Green’s car can handle four of us, and so can Mrs. Bell’s. That leaves three of us without a ride or chaperone. Well, three of _you_ , since I called dibs on riding with Ms. Green,” he remarked. “So! Who’s gonna volunteer a chaperone and their car?”

 

* * *

 

By the end of class, everything was settled.

Julie’s grandmother would be the third driver-chaperone, and everyone who’d be attending the event was given a permission slip to get signed.

Sam’s anticipation was at an all-time high.

 

* * *

 

Physical education saw them all return outside for a game of softball.

“It’s f- f- fucking _freezing_ ,” Felix stuttered at Sam’s side.

Clad in only his airy sportswear, Sam had to agree.

 

* * *

 

Sam got his permission slip signed and received his parents’ well-wishes yet again.

They only served to intensify his anticipation.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the week went by in a blur.

Somehow, Sam’s anticipation for Saturday began to overcome the constant fog of Felix-related thoughts over his mind. Then again, the fact that Saturday itself would contain an abundance of Felix was probably to blame for that phenomenon.

Megan and Mason took to discussing their upcoming performances at lunch, and Sam listened intently.

Drama was spent on rehearsals. Some people would be doing scenes, like Sam and Felix, while others would be doing monologues, and still others would be singing.

Sam avidly watched everyone’s rehearsals, surprised that there were enough of them to take up the whole week’s worth of drama classes. Felix had a monologue, Megan and Mason sang, and several other people showed off what they’d be doing.

It wasn’t until Friday that Sam got to perform his scene with Felix again, receiving the customary round of applause before returning to his seat.

“And that’s it for rehearsals!” Felix announced. “Give yourselves a pat on the back, you were all great. Now, tomorrow’s the big day, and I bet you’re wondering what exactly happens.”

The room was completely silent.

“Listen up, here’s how it’s gonna work.”

Felix detailed the weekend’s proceedings.

Sam could hardly wait.

 

* * *

 

“We’ll be here to pick you up at eight. You have your phone?”

“Yes.”

His mother smiled softly and stroked his cheek. “Okay, Sami,” she murmured.

“Call us if anything happens,” his father reminded.

“Yes,” Sam said as he opened the car door and stepped out. “Bye.”

“Bye!” his mother called back.

“Have fun! Hopefully things go well for you!” his father said.

Sam gave them a smile and a nod, then began walking towards the front of the auditorium, where nearly everyone attending the event was gathered.

“Sammy!” Felix heralded his arrival. “Get over here, we’re just waiting for a couple more people and we’ll be good to go.”

Sam walked up to the group, all of them huddled and shivering in the morning breeze. Though he wore his coat and earmuffs, the cold still managed to work its way through them as he stood there, and he was also shivering in matter of minutes.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted his parents drive off.

Felix seemed to notice as well.

“I’m _cold_ ,” he whined.

“You should’ve worn your hoodie,” Sam replied.

Felix gave a full-body shudder. “No way, who’s gonna take me seriously in that? And anyway, you’re warm enough for us both,” he said, shuffling closer and plastering himself across Sam’s front. “Shit, you’re like a heater.”

“...I _was_ just in a warm car,” Sam pointed out.

Felix shook his head and made a noise of dissent. “That was ages ago. But whatever, you’re my personal heater now,” he said, flipping over to press his back against Sam. “Mm, much better.”

Sam blinked himself back into the moment, eyes darting around the group.

No one seemed to be paying the two of them any mind aside from Megan, who gave Sam a wink.

Mason pointedly avoided looking their way.

 

* * *

 

Within the next thirty minutes, they had all piled into cars and were on their way to the event.

Felix sat at the front of Ms. Green’s car, with Sam, Megan, and Mason in the back.

Somehow, the four of them managed to keep a friendly conversation going, for which Sam was immensely grateful.

 

* * *

 

Upon their arrival to the event, Ms. Green ensured they each had a copy of the day’s schedule, along with their individual name badges.

“None of you have any competitions for another two hours, so feel free to pick where you wanna go,” she said, looking around at them. “Remember, you can only enter or leave competition rooms between presentations, and you don’t have to be with your chaperone _all_ the time, but make sure you check in with either them or me at least once every twenty minutes. Got it?”

Everyone nodded.

Ms. Green smiled. “Then go have fun!”

 

* * *

 

Felix dragged Sam off to tour the event, which was spread across several buildings of a high school, with a large courtyard as the central hub.

“This is such a fancy-ass school,” Felix muttered. “I bet they actually have a decent drama department here.”

“Would you rather this be your school?” Sam asked.

Felix turned to look at him.

“No.”

 

* * *

 

“How’s it going?” Felix asked Ms. Green as they approached her.

“Fine so far,” she said. “Megan and Mason are getting snacks.”

Sam looked in the direction she pointed.

Sure enough, there were Megan and Mason, standing in an ever growing line.

Felix barked out a laugh. “It’s so early, they can’t be hungry _already_ ,” he said.

“They’re not,” Ms. Green replied with a shrug. “But since it’s so early, they thought they’d get snacks before the line got too long.”

Felix’s grin faded as he eyed the line.

“...Shit.”

 

* * *

 

Upon Megan and Mason’s triumphant snack-bearing return, the four of them—Ms. Green included and Sam excluded—decided to go spectate the pantomime competition.

Sam was simply content to follow in the group’s wake, figuratively speaking.

Literally speaking, Felix had hooked one of his arms in Sam’s as soon as the next destination was decided, ensuring the two of them led the group towards it.

Sam didn’t mind one bit.

 

* * *

 

It turned out that Julie’s group had also opted to spectate the pantomime competition.

Given the nature of the event, the extent of their groups’ acknowledgment of each other was limited to nods and smiles, and then they all turned their attention to the performances.

 

* * *

 

Everyone began talking as they filtered out of the room. Felix and a few members from Julie’s group were discussing the performances they’d just seen, and as they did, Sam slowly fell behind the newly expanded group, trailing along after it. To his surprise, Julie’s grandmother fell back as well, striking up a conversation with him.

“How are you liking everything so far?” she asked.

“It’s interesting,” he answered honestly.

“Yeah, it is!” she laughed. “You wouldn’t believe some of the things I’ve been seeing around here. I didn’t even know they had these competitions. Have you been to one before?”

Sam shook his head. “It’s my first time.”

“Oh! It’s Julie’s first time too, but she sounded so excited about it. I asked her why, since she’d never been before, and she said it was because she’d get to spend the day with her friends. Isn’t that sweet?”

“Yes...”

“But you know, it’s not like she doesn’t normally hang out with them, so I asked her again. I asked, ‘Julie, is there some other reason you’re not telling me?’ And she said it’s just because she really loves performing. Can you imagine? Well, probably, or you wouldn’t be here!”

Sam had no idea if he was supposed to be answering.

“That reminds me: I never got a chance to tell you, but you and her were fantastic in that scene you did. I’m sure Julie would’ve been fantastic all on her own, of course, but she really couldn’t have asked for a better costar!”

Sam said nothing.

“I bet you’ve got a lot of admirers, with talent like that! Maybe you think you’d have had better luck joining a sports team, but trust me, there’s a lot of women who prefer their men a little less macho. By the way, do you have a girlfriend?”

“No...” Sam said, desperately looking towards the group ahead.

It seemed no one would be coming to his rescue.

“You’re kidding!” Julie’s grandmother gasped. “Why, a nice young man like you? You should have girls lining up to date you!”

Sam shot another desperate glance at the group.

Still no help.

“You know, I think you and Julie would make a lovely couple,” she went on. “Back when you two were working on that scene together? Oh, you should’ve heard the way she talked about you. I’m sure if you asked her to be your girlfriend, she’d say yes in a heartbeat!”

 

* * *

 

“How are you two doing?”

Sam could have hugged Felix right then and there.

“We’re just great,” Julie’s grandmother answered with a smile. “I was telling Sam here all about what an amazing girl Julie is, because I really think they’d be the perfect couple, don’t you?”

“Is that so?” Felix asked, head swiveling towards Sam.

Sam was certain his distress was plain to see.

“Well, I don’t know about all that,” Felix said, “but our group just decided we’re gonna go see the comedic monologues. I think Julie and her friends wanted to go somewhere else, so I’m afraid Sam and I are gonna have to say goodbye for now.”

“Oh, that’s alright! It was very nice talking to you, Sam,” Julie’s grandmother said with a smile. “And think about what I said, okay?”

Felix dragged Sam away before he could give her much more than a parting wave.

“Who the _fuck_ does she think she is?” Felix hissed the moment they were out of her hearing range. “ _What the hell?_ I leave you alone for five minutes and you get roped into some kind of shitty matchmaking scheme. Can’t she tell you’re not exactly available!?”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “Aren’t I?”

“No! Look at you, you’re a mess. If you were actually on the market, Julie wouldn’t stand a fucking chance. But you’re not, because you’re a mess,” Felix said, leading him along to where the comedic monologue competition would take place.

Sam said nothing.

 

* * *

 

“You know what? Maybe you _should_ give Julie a shot.”

“What?” Sam asked as they stood in the courtyard, waiting for the rest of their group to return from who-knew-where.

“Yeah,” Felix said, nodding to himself. “It’d be good for you. Would get you to loosen up a little, get that stick out of your ass. You haven’t dated since, what, when you first moved here? Not that you’ve gotta date to get some action, but it’s pretty clear you’re kind of a stickler for rules, so.”

Sam had no idea what to make of all that. Did Felix really mean it? Was he just lashing out? Sam couldn’t bring himself to be upset by his words, but rather by his attitude.

If the thought of Sam dating Julie bothered him so much, why didn’t he say so?

Why not _say so?_

Then again, Sam supposed the same could be asked of himself.

 

* * *

 

“Alright, we’re up next. You ready?” Felix asked him.

Sam nodded.

“Then let’s go,” Felix said, linking their arms together and heading to the competition’s room.

 

* * *

 

Though the judge’s impassive faces gave nothing away, Sam couldn’t help feeling accomplished.

 

* * *

 

Their three groups came together for a snack break.

Megan and Mason were free to enjoy the snacks they’d already bought while everyone else was forced to wait their turn in what had become a leviathan of a line. Felix went on and on about a variety of subjects ranging from the day’s performances to how hungry he was, and Sam cast his gaze around at the gathered crowd.

It mostly consisted of high school students, their fellow competitors. There was also a smattering of adults spread throughout. They were presumably all chaperones, though perhaps a few were judges instead.

As Sam continued looking around, his eyes happened to meet another student’s.

Sam blinked.

The other student’s eyes remained on his.

They kept watching each other, and Sam found himself wondering if there was a threshold after which breaking eye contact would somehow become more awkward.

“Sammy, you listening?” Felix asked.

Sam finally looked away from the student and turned back to Felix. “What?”

Felix rolled his eyes. “What I _said_ was that you should get one of everything even if you’re not planning on eating it. I’m starving and this one-per-person rule ain’t gonna cut it,” he quipped, rubbing at his stomach.

“...Alright,” Sam said, glancing back to where the student had been but finding no trace of him.

 

* * *

 

The next couple hours were spent in a whirlwind of competing and spectating, the highlights of which were Megan and Mason’s climactic duet and Felix’s dramatic monologue.

Throughout it all, Felix stuck by Sam’s side, or more accurately, made sure Sam stuck by his. The sole exception was when he excused himself for a quick bathroom break and left Sam sitting alone in the courtyard.

Sam took the opportunity to people-watch, observing the way students from different schools interacted within their groups, and occasionally with other groups altogether.

He was so wrapped up in watching everyone else that he didn’t immediately realize he’d been approached.

“Hey.”

Sam gave a start and whipped his head around.

Ah. The student from earlier.

“I don’t believe in small talk,” said the student, stare intense. “So tell me, what are your interests?”

Sam looked around, but there was no sign of Felix.

“...Drama?” he tried.

The student narrowed his eyes and smirked lightly. “I’ve got a feeling you aren’t being totally honest with me.”

Sam said nothing.

“That’s fine,” the student assured. “I’ll kick things off. My interests include drama too. I actually enjoy the arts in general. Aside from that, I also like sh—”

“ _Excuse me_ , but we’ve gotta go,” Felix interrupted, already reaching a hand out.

Sam stood up and Felix immediately linked their arms together, dragging him away.

“Bye,” Sam called over his shoulder, catching one last glimpse of the student frowning after them.

Felix gave his arm a squeeze. “Who was _that_ guy?” he asked.

“I don’t know. He said he didn’t like small talk.”

Felix whipped his head back and Sam followed suit, but the student was gone.

“Figures,” muttered Felix. “Can’t leave you alone for _one fucking second_...”

 

* * *

 

By the time the event was winding down to a close, the sun was setting and the temperature was dropping. Their three groups had reunited and were debating where they’d go eat once everyone’s scores were officially handed out.

No, the snacks hadn’t been enough; they needed a proper meal.

Not two hours later, they found themselves in some manner of restaurant, taking up several tables that had been pushed together. As they ate, they discussed the day’s performances and Ms. Green handed out their scores.

Sam and Felix’s scene had scored relatively well. Not enough to win its category, but enough to garner third place.

“They don’t know real talent when they see it,” Felix shrugged, scarfing down the rest of his food.

 

* * *

 

“I call dibs on the backseat,” Felix said. “Someone else can take the front. Megan, you like the front, right? You can have it.”

“...Sure,” Megan said, narrowing her eyes.

Mason’s frown was plain to see.

 

* * *

 

How Sam ended up in the middle of the backseat with a disgruntled Mason on one side and a shivering Felix curled against his other side was a mystery to him.

Megan made a valiant attempt at keeping a conversation going, with Ms. Green being her primary conversation partner. Felix would occasionally give mumbled replies from somewhere in the vicinity of Sam’s shoulder, and Mason rarely spoke unless directly addressed.

For his own part, Sam was certain he answered the few questions that came his way, but was utterly clueless as to what those questions or answers were as soon as he was done with them.

There was simply too much going on— in the car, throughout the day, within his mind.

He let himself focus solely on Felix’s weight at his side.

 

* * *

 

When they pulled up to the school, Sam’s parents were already in the parking lot.

Socially exhausted and not wanting to keep them waiting, he quickly said his goodbyes to everyone and hurried to their car, relaxing as soon as he dropped into the backseat.

“How was it?” his mother immediately asked.

His father gave him an expectant smile.

“I’ll tell you both on the way home,” Sam mumbled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Megan and Mason's duet is ['Suddenly Seymour' from _Little Shop Of Horrors_.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xl_YEVDnN-Y)


	31. Season 2, Episode 9

Monday morning, Sam was forced to admit that he was profoundly, irreversibly sick.

Not of Felix and his endless torment of Sam’s emotions—though that too—but physiologically sick.

What had seemed like a mild soreness in his throat soon blossomed into a full-on cough and an aching head.

Despite his reluctance to miss a school day, he knew that his presence would only serve to get those around him sick as well, and that he’d be useless the entire time anyway.

He resolved to spend the day in bed.

 

* * *

 

To his dismay, spending the entire day in bed did nothing to improve his state.

The headache had worsened and he was certain he’d develop a fever before long.

His mother provided soup and his father provided ice cream, and though both were appreciated, neither were of instant help.

 

* * *

 

The fever started on Tuesday.

Sam was _miserable_.

His coughs were loud and painful, and his heated body kept shivering rebelliously.

Boredom settled in, though he was in no state to focus on anything.

His only option was to suffer through it.

 

* * *

 

By Wednesday afternoon, he had to face the idea that he might end up missing the entire school week.

It was disheartening, but the thought of attending school in his current state only disheartened him further.

 

* * *

 

Sam began rewatching the entirety of _Sailor Moon_ on Thursday.

His head still hurt, his throat still ached, his body still felt heated, light still hurt his eyes, noise still hurt his ears, he was still exhausted, and he was still unable to focus on anything, but in spite of all that, he found that setting his television to its lowest possible volume and occasionally glancing at the screen to see his childhood heroines in action still managed to help.

 

* * *

 

Sam was contemplating the futility of existence when he distantly heard a knock at the front door. It was soon followed by an unmistakable, “Hi, Mr. Ortez! Is Sam home? How is he?”

Quiet murmuring ensued, followed by the sound of the door shutting. Shortly afterwards, Sam’s father peeked into his room.

“Sami?” he asked.

Sam groaned.

“Felix is outside. He says that he wants to see you even though I told him that you’re sick and maybe contagious. He keeps insisting that he wants to see you, but I don’t know. Do you want to see him? I can tell him that you’re sleeping if you don’t.”

“ _’Sfine_ ,” Sam rasped out.

His father looked concerned. “Are you sure?”

“Mhmm.”

“Okay, Sami.”

His father’s footsteps faded away, and before long, the sounds of Felix being let into the house ensued.

“—and noise bothers him, so try to talk softly,” his father was saying as he pushed open Sam's door again. “Sami, I brought Felix.”

“Hey,” Felix greeted from the door.

“Mnnghhh,” said Sam.

Sam's father moved aside and gestured Felix in. “Just call me if you need anything, okay?” he said to them both.

Sam grunted and Felix offered a vibrant smile.

With that, Sam’s father left, letting the door fall slightly ajar, not entirely closing.

Sam found himself mildly annoyed, though he appreciated the care behind the gesture.

“Wow, Sammy,” Felix said, looking him up and down. He ducked forward and pressed a hand to his forehead. “Geez, you're burning up! Have you been like this all week?”

Sam coughed into his blanket and Felix grimaced, moving to the other side of the bed and sitting in the desk chair that had been placed there.

“Oh, look at that, chicken soup and everything,” he pointed out when he saw the bowl at Sam’s bedside.

Sam stayed silent but his eyes followed Felix’s every movement.

“Want me to spoon-feed you?”

Sam glared.

In one of his usual displays of fearlessness, Felix ignored it, grabbing the bowl in one hand and stirring it with the other. “This is super cold. Did you eat any at all?”

“...No.”

“Mm. Time to fix that!” Felix said, glancing at the television for the first time. “Whatcha’ watching?”

“ _Sailor Moon_...”

“I know _that_. But what's up? They winning, losing? Baddie-of-the-week type deal?”

“No,” grumbled Sam, trying to sit up. “It's the finale, when—”

He cut himself off as a spoonful of soup came into view, connected to the hand and arm of an expectant Felix.

A short pause, and Sam opened his mouth.

In went the spoon.

Felix pulled it back out and Sam swallowed, the soup feeling like a balm for his aching throat.

Immediately, Felix readied another spoonful, letting Sam continue from where he'd left off in his explanation of the _Sailor Moon_ finale in question. After a sentence or two more, he held up the spoon again, and Sam obediently opened his mouth.

On and on, the minutes passed. Sam talked what little he could, and for once, Felix stayed quiet and listened.

Or maybe he didn't listen. For all Sam knew, Felix could be monologuing in his head, completely tuning out Sam's innocuous ramblings.

It was pleasant all the same.

Eventually, the soup ran out and Sam felt considerably better. Not _good_ by a long shot, but better.

 

* * *

 

A soft knock at the door had them both looking towards it as Sam’s mother peeked in.

“Hi, Felix,” she murmured. “Sami, how are you?”

“Fine...” he said, because despite still feeling awful, it was a better awful than it’d been.

“Yeah? Good,” she said, glancing around. Her eyes landed on the empty bowl of soup and she stepped into the room with a smile. “You ate all the soup?”

“Just now,” Felix piped up. “I helped out a bit, but he did all the work.”

“You helped him?” Sam’s mother asked, reaching for the bowl.

“Yep!” Felix stood and handed it to her, adding, “It’s amazing what you can get him to do if you get him talking about _Sailor Moon_.”

She let out a surprised laugh. “Yes, he really loves it,” she said, looking down at him adoringly.

Sam slunk back down under the covers.

“Anyway, thank you so much, Felix,” she went on. “What about you? Do you want a snack?”

“Nah, that’s okay. I only came by to see how Sammy was. I’ll probably be leaving pretty soon, though I was wondering if he’d be up for studying tomorrow. Doesn’t really look like it though.”

“I can do it,” mumbled Sam.

His mother reached a hand down to settle on his forehead. “Hmm. Are you sure?”

“Yes...”

She frowned but said nothing, turning to Felix instead. “You’re not worried about getting sick?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I’d rather pass history sick than fail healthy.”

“...Okay, if you’re sure.”

 

* * *

 

“Alright, let’s get down to brass tacks,” Felix said as another episode drew to a close.

Sam gave him a questioning look.

“You’ve been absent the whole week,” Felix started. “I don’t care about that, but what I do care about is the fact that I’ve held off on announcing the play’s cast list this entire time.” He leaned forward and stared intensely at Sam. “I _can’t_ hold off anymore. Are you gonna be at school on Monday?”

Sam nodded.

Felix’s gaze turned scrutinizing.

Sam maintained eye contact.

“You better,” Felix said, sitting back.

 

* * *

 

“Sami said you liked candy, so I brought some for you,” Sam’s mother explained, passing Felix a small bag stuffed with sweets.

Felix grinned widely and held the bag close. “Oh, you didn’t have to do that, Mrs. Ortez! Thank you.”

“No, I wanted to,” she said, offering him a smile before looking down at Sam. “He looks much better, your visit really helped.”

She felt Sam’s forehead for a couple seconds before running her hand up to lightly stroke the top of his head. Felix made himself comfortable, crossing his legs and unwrapping a piece of candy as he delightedly watched the display in front of him.

“I’m _fine_ ,” Sam said, sending his mother a pleading look.

“Yeah?” she asked.

He nodded.

She smiled and pulled her hand away, stepping towards the door. “Let me know if you need anything,” she said, sending them both one last smile before leaving.

Sam slowly turned to look at Felix, whose grin had only widened.

“Fucking _adorable_ ,” he said, stuffing his mouth with the newly unwrapped piece of candy.

 

* * *

 

Another episode ended and Felix let out a sigh.

“As much as I’d love to keep sitting here and watching your parents fuss over you, I’m pretty sure that’d count as overstaying my welcome,” he said.

Sam silently looked on as he stood up and pocketed the considerably emptier bag of sweets.

“So what time should I come by tomorrow?”

“The usual,” Sam said.

“Nice,” Felix replied with a nod. “Enjoy your anime chicks, and I’ll see you then!”

 

* * *

 

“It seems that Felix is a good friend.”

Sam gave a noncommittal hum as his mother placed another bowl of soup on the bedside table.

“And what does that mean?” she asked. “Yes, no, maybe?”

“...He is,” Sam said, deciding that it wasn’t technically a false statement.

“You know, your dad and I were talking, and we think that we should invite Felix to eat with us. Would you like that?”

Sam thought it over. Would he? He wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t find anything objectionable about the idea either.

“It could be good,” he said.

His mother grinned. “Yeah? Then tomorrow we’ll ask him. Do you think he’ll be free next weekend?”

 

* * *

 

“I’d _love_ to join you all for dinner!” Felix said, flashing a winning smile.

“Great!” Sam’s mother laughed, wearing a smile to match his. “Is six o’clock okay for you? So you can spend some time with Sam first.”

Sam watched as Felix somehow increased the intensity of his smile without it undergoing any perceptible changes.

It was bizarre to witness.

“Six o’clock would be just perfect, Mrs. Ortez.”

 

* * *

 

“Remember when your mom hated me?”

“She never hated you,” Sam said, taking a seat at his desk.

“Oh, come on, you’re seriously gonna sit there?” Felix asked from the bed.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with it?”

“You’re still recovering!” Felix exclaimed, hands gesturing at the entirety of Sam. “You should be in bed still, not all stiff and uncomfortable in a chair!”

Sam frowned. “I’ve been in bed for a week,” he pointed out. “I’m just as sick of the bed as I am of being sick.”

“Harsh,” Felix said, adjusting himself until he was facedown and hanging partially off the bed. “Fine, then. Let’s get this study session started.”

 

* * *

 

“Are you sure you don’t wanna come on the bed?”

“It’s only been ten minutes. Focus.”

Felix gave a dejected sigh, but Sam hadn’t been lying; he really was sick of the bed.

 

* * *

 

“You should show me another page of that journal.”

“No, thank you,” Sam briskly replied.

“ _Sammy_...”

Sam said nothing, focusing on the notes he was taking. He heard Felix shuffle around on the bed and stand up.

“ _Sammy_...” Felix repeated.

Sam continued saying nothing, at least until he felt Felix drape himself over the back of his chair, head atop his own.

“ _Sammy_ , the journal...”

Sam let out a heavy sigh.

“C’mon, you can even do that thing where you show me just one page again,” Felix said. “It has to be a different page though, no more phone numbers.”

Sam considered it.

Felix stayed put at his back.

Scowling, Sam abandoned his notes in favor of one of the desk drawers, opening it to reveal the journal.

...As well as the sweet roses Felix had given him.

Sam yanked out the journal and shut the drawer, but the damage was done.

“You still have those?” Felix asked, walking around the chair to eye the closed drawer. “It’s been like a month, do you hate sugar that much?”

“No,” Sam said, then promptly busied himself with finding a journal page suitable for Felix’s eyes.

Felix leaned against the desk, just shy of outright sitting on it. He crossed his arms and tapped his fingers at an impatient pace.

At last, Sam settled on a page and held the journal open for Felix to look at.

 

* * *

 

**_Friends give great gifts! What are some gifts your friends have given you?_**

**** **** ******This journal. Bad candy. Sweet roses.**

 

* * *

 

“Aww, I’m flattered you’d call my family store’s shitty candy a gift,” Felix said as he leaned away from the page. “I’d have called it a curse.”

“It was a gift,” Sam reiterated, shutting the journal and depositing it back into the desk drawer, hyperaware of Felix’s eyes honing in on the roses again.

There was a moment of silence.

“...Well,” Felix said, staring blankly ahead. “How much is left of the chapter?”

“Not much. We should be done in twenty minutes at most.”

Felix headed for the bed, hopping onto it and giving Sam an encouraging nod.

Sam turned back to the textbook and picked up where they’d left off.

 

* * *

 

When Sam’s uncharged cell phone finally blinked to life, he was surprised to find various texts from earlier in the week, all from Felix.

 

* * *

 

[INCOMING]  
is this the first time you’ve ever skipped a school day

 

* * *

 

[INCOMING]  
come on sam  
i can’t announce the cast list if you’re not around

 

* * *

 

[INCOMING]  
dude wtf where are you?

 

* * *

 

[INCOMING]  
ok seriously if you’re not here tomorrow i’m coming over

 

* * *

 

[INCOMING]  
see you in 20 min


	32. Season 2, Episode 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In various Latin American countries, to 'set the dogs on' someone is commonly understood to mean 'make romantic/sexual advances towards' them.

Sam returned to school feeling much better than he had a week ago, though still with a few latent effects of his sickness.

When Felix walked into history and Sam’s eyes met his, they offered each other small smiles.

When Mason looked up from his desk to see Sam enter biology, he waved enthusiastically.

When Megan caught sight of Sam across the cafeteria, she grinned and sent a thumbs-up.

Sam knew that was how friendships made people act.

All the same, their warm welcomes were more than enough to help him get through the day.

 

* * *

 

The week’s literature project was to draw up a poster similar to what they’d done earlier in the year, but on a smaller scale.

As such, they were instructed to pair up into teams of two.

Sam had no illusions of being nearer and dearer to Megan than her two other friends in the class, so it was with great surprise and honor that he heeded her call and moved to sit in the unoccupied desk beside her.

 

* * *

 

“It’s the moment of truth,” Felix announced. “Time to find out the play, time to find out the casting. Are you all ready?”

“Just say it!” a second-year called out.

Felix frowned slightly but complied. “Fine. It’s this,” he said, drawing out a small booklet from behind himself.

Everyone collectively leaned forward.

Felix elaborated, “It’s basically a ‘then versus now’ thing with Shakespeare’s plays. The original iconic scenes show up, but so do modernized versions of them.” He quickly flipped through the booklet. “The humor has more to do with the differences than with any outright jokes. So basically, it manages to be a parody without being obnoxious.”

He headed to Ms. Green’s desk, where several stacks of the same booklet were piled up. Gathering a handful, he began to pass them out, talking as he worked.

“As for casting,” he said, “we’ve gotten that finalized. We took into consideration which ones of you said you’d be fine with dual roles, and which ones would prefer to work behind the scenes.”

“Are you finally gonna tell us who’s who?” asked a newbie.

Felix nodded, passing out more of the booklets. “Yep. And I’ll do you one better: We’re getting started on our table read _today_. I doubt we’ll finish it today too, but that’s okay. The important thing’s that we start.”

He neared Sam, handed him a booklet with another small smile, and moved on to the next person.

Sam took a look through the booklet, skimming a few random pages.

“Now then,” Felix said, returning to the front of the room with a single booklet in hand, “let’s find out who's who.”

 

* * *

 

Romeo.

_Romeo._

Wherefore art thou...

**_Romeo?_**

 

* * *

 

“You can't be mad at me! Who else was I supposed to choose!?”

“‘Choose’? You _chose_ me? Specifically _you?”_

“Well, I mean...” Felix faltered. “Ms. Green made the final calls and she didn't exactly have any problems with that one, so—”

“So you _did_ make the initial suggestion,” Sam accused.

Felix pouted. “C’mon, you can't seriously be angry about it, can you?”

The worst part was that yes, Sam couldn't seriously be angry about it.

His role had been assigned, and now it was his job to carry it out at all costs.

 

* * *

 

“I can't believe you got a role that big,” Mason said as they left biology.

“Can’t you.”

Mason shook his head. “No, not really. I mean, I knew Felix would probably give you something big, but _that?”_ he asked. “I read through the rest of the script at home and your scenes are practically what tie the whole show together.”

“.....”

 

* * *

 

“Don’t you think so?”

“Think what?” asked Megan.

“That Felix gave Sam a huge role,” Mason repeated.

“Oh, yeah. Real meaty.”

Mason choked on his drink.

 

* * *

 

“Think you can handle it?”

Sam sighed. “I have no choice.”

“Of course you do,” Megan refuted. “It’s still super early. If you don’t wanna do it, you can just say so.”

Sam knew that. He was annoyed enough for it to even be a tempting option.

But no.

He was rapidly coming to realize just how much he enjoyed playing along with Felix’s games.

 

* * *

 

The next couple drama classes were taken up first by the table read, then by Felix going through his directorial notes aloud.

Everyone received comments and critiques, including Sam.

“Everybody thinks of Shakespeare as being stuffy, and you’re gonna be working against that,” Felix said to him. “I know you do the angry thing really well, but try mixing it up a bit, yeah? Especially in the lighthearted scenes. Practice and see if you can get across the overall meaning of something using just your tone.”

Sam thought about that. He’d never been particularly good at subtle vocal inflections, and he doubted he’d get any better simply because Felix asked him to.

But he could try.

 

* * *

 

“I’m looking forward to our dinner, Sammy.”

“My parents are too.”

“And you?”

“It’ll be different.”

Felix let out a laugh. “Yeah, I would think so! I’m gonna have to gush about how smart you are and how much our study sessions have helped me, aren’t I?”

“No,” Sam said, taken aback by the suggestion.

“Then what? I’m not getting invited just so they can make small talk with me,” Felix said. “So it’s either that, or grilling me for information. Trying to figure out how much of a bad influence I am, if I have anything to do with your grades slipping, all that good stuff. Did they ask you about those, by the way?”

Sam shook his head.

“Then they’ve gotta ask me,” Felix concluded.

 

* * *

 

Sam used the time his parents weren’t home to try various things with his voice.

He didn’t think he made much progress, namely because he had no idea where to start. How did people’s voices show emotion? He knew _how_ , in the sense that he’d heard it throughout his life, but...

How?

Was it the pitch? The volume? Some other quality altogether? Was it like using his diaphragm to breathe right? Was that why he’d never quite managed it, because he’d never discovered the technique itself?

He apparently conveyed anger well enough though.

Hmm. He couldn’t remember the last time a drama assignment had given him so much to contemplate.

 

* * *

 

Sam spent the rest of the week going through a strange routine: Working with Megan on their literature poster, talking with Megan about things entirely unrelated to their literature poster, going through one table read after another in drama, practicing voice inflection without knowing where to begin, and of course, preparing for his family’s dinner with Felix.

“Since he’s your friend, you have to help a little with the dinner, okay?” his mother teased.

“How could I not?” Sam answered.

 

* * *

 

“I know you have a sweet tooth, but we can’t have candy for dinner,” Sam said. “Is there anything else you enjoy eating?”

Felix seemed to consider the question, chuckled softly, then said, “Whatever works. Not too picky. Well, maybe no veggies if you can help it.”

Sam tilted his head. “You don’t like vegetables?”

“Does anyone?”

Sam knew people tended to express disgust towards vegetables, but he’d always taken it as just another joke he was out of the loop for. Judging by Felix’s answer, it was a genuine dislike.

He had no idea what to make of it.

 

* * *

 

“He said he doesn’t like vegetables.”

“What? _All_ vegetables?”

Sam shrugged.

His mother shook her head. “We’ll see,” she muttered.

 

* * *

 

Felix stepped out of his car and called, “Sammy! Six o’clock on the dot and ready for some grilling, in both senses.”

“There won’t be any grilling,” Sam said. “But there will be carrots.”

Felix frowned.

“Not many,” Sam added.

“Then what’s the main course?” Felix asked, stepping towards the front door.

Sam opened it and said, “Chicken.”

“Well, that’s not b— Fuck, that smells amazing.”

Sam barely held back a smile.

“Felix! How are you?” Sam’s mother greeted, stepping out of the kitchen.

“Felix is here?” Sam’s father asked from within it, stepping out a moment later. “Felix! Hello!”

“Hi!” Felix said with a wave. “It smells amazing in here, by the way.”

Sam’s mother grinned. “Oh, good! I hope you like chicken,” she said.

“I do. And carrots too, according to Sammy?” Felix asked, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

“Yes! He said you don’t like vegetables, but try them, okay? If you don’t like them, it’s fine, but please try a little first.”

“It’d be my pleasure,” Felix affirmed.

Sam’s mother shot Sam a look, and the unspoken ‘we’ll see’ came through loud and clear.

Something in the kitchen started hissing.

“Ah, sorry, can’t leave the kitchen!” she apologized before hurrying back in.

Sam’s father stood there awkwardly. “Well... Are you two going to your room now?”

Sam nodded.

“Guess so,” Felix said.

“Okay,” Sam’s father smiled. “Have fun!”

Felix smiled back, saying, “Oh, we will.” He hooked an arm in one of Sam’s and gestured forward. “Lead the way, Sammy.”

Sam did.

They were nearly to his room when he heard his parents talking in the kitchen.

“So? You saw him?” his mother asked.

“Yes...” his father replied. “You don’t think he’s setting the dogs on Sami?”

“I’ve been telling you for months—”

Sam brusquely shut the door in his haste to cut the conversation off, only to belatedly remember that Felix wouldn’t understand a word of it anyway.

Luckily, Felix didn’t comment on the abrupt slam, only raising an eyebrow.

“...I could show you something other than _Sailor Moon_ ,” Sam tried.

An inelegant smile broke out on Felix’s face before he reigned it in.

“Please do.”

 

* * *

 

They were nearly finished with the third episode of _Revolutionary Girl Utena_ when a knock at the door accompanied an announcement that dinner was served.

“We’ll be out in a minute,” Sam answered, turning his television off.

Felix scoffed. “Dude? This show’s fucking _weird_.”

Sam raised an eyebrow.

“Like, _Sailor Moon_ was weird, but you could still get it. This though?” Felix widened his eyes and spread his hands out. “Hell if I know what’s going on.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “I can explain it to you later if you’d like.”

“What, hear you geek out about your Japanese animes?” Felix asked, amusement in his voice. “I’d love to.”

 

* * *

 

The table collectively held their breath as Felix nibbled at a piece of carrot.

He chewed it, swallowed it, slid the rest into his mouth and repeated the process.

Sam’s mother’s stare was piercing.

Finally, Felix gave his verdict.

“I don’t know what the hell kind of carrots I had before, but they were nothing like _this_.”

 

* * *

 

“How did you get into drama?” Sam’s father asked.

“Oh, I just like the attention,” Felix laughed.

Sam’s mother smiled. “So not like Sami.”

“Eh, that’s alright,” Felix said with a shrug. “Loads of people get into it as a way to come out of their shell. Besides, he’s actually great at it, so who cares why he joined up? What matters is he’s there and doing really well.”

 

* * *

 

“Sami said your family has a store,” Sam’s mother brought up.

Felix gave an easy grin. “Oh, that thing? Yeah, we’ve had it a while. I gotta say, running a store? Not as glamorous as it might seem.”

“Lots of work, right?” she asked.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Felix replied, eyebrows rising.

“What about you?” Sam’s father asked. “Do you work there too?”

Felix nodded. “That’s right.”

“Really? Wow,” Sam’s mother said, tone leaving no doubt as to how impressive she found the idea of Felix working.

Sam spoke up, “I told you. Both of you.”

His father looked surprised. “You did?”

“Yes,” Sam said. “Remember? I told you as soon as I got home that day.”

“What day?” his mother asked.

“When I told you his family had a store. The time I brought cheese and chocolate from it.”

There was a moment’s pause, and then Sam’s parents simultaneously hummed in remembrance.

Felix furtively smiled in Sam’s direction.

 

* * *

 

“What do you want to do when school finishes?” Sam’s mother asked.

Felix offered her a resigned smile and said, “Honestly, the long term goal’s pretty simple: Get famous, get rich. I really do like the attention. But if we’re talking short term...”

He fell quiet as he finished off the last of his chicken. Sam’s parents watched him avidly.

Sam had a feeling he’d only paused for dramatic effect.

“I’ve got family in California,” Felix continued. “I’m hoping they’ll take me in for a little while, just so I can set myself up. If not, I do have some money saved. The next step would be to find myself a decent place to stay. And then it’s gonna be audition after audition until something sticks.”

He shot Sam a quick look and their eyes met.

Sam felt his heart skip a beat.

“...That’s very interesting,” Sam’s mother commented, drawing their attention back to her.

“Yeah,” Felix said, taking a sip of his drink.

 

* * *

 

“Do you want dessert?”

“I’d love some,” Felix replied, sitting back in his chair.

Sam’s mother smiled. “And you?” she asked, glancing from Sam to his father.

“Yes, please,” they replied in near unison.

Felix grinned.

 

* * *

 

“Mmm. This is wonderful,” Felix said, two bites into his slice of cake.

“You like it?” Sam’s mother asked. “Sami helped me make it.”

“Sammy did?” Felix asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

Sam nodded.

Felix swallowed and stared down at his plate. “Wow,” he said. “ _Wow_.”

Sam’s father chuckled. “That good, huh?”

“Fantastic,” Felix confirmed, taking another bite.

“Better than the dinner?” Sam’s mother asked.

Felix gave her an impressed look and murmured, “That was fantastic too. They’re both fantastic. This has just been great.”

“Yeah? Good,” Sam’s mother said. “You had fun?”

“So much,” Felix sighed, prompting laughs from Sam’s parents.

Sam’s mother turned to his father. “And you? Did you have fun too?”

Sam’s father nodded emphatically. “Yes, this was a wonderful dinner,” he said, smiling around at them all.

“What about you, Sami?” his mother asked. “You haven’t talked a lot. How are you?”

“I’m fine,” Sam replied, finding it strange to have his parents’ and Felix’s combined attention on him. “This was fun.”

Felix reached up and lightly patted his arm.

“Sammy’s always quiet,” Felix said. “I had to learn that the hard way.”

“Oh, yeah?” Sam’s father asked, curiosity evident.

Felix nodded.

“How?” Sam’s mother prompted.

Sam sighed.

 

* * *

 

“That really was fun,” Felix said, strolling towards his car.

“It was.”

Felix suddenly turned around and leveled Sam with a look.

Sam stilled.

“Been learning your lines?” Felix asked.

“Yes.”

“Gonna make a good Romeo?”

“I would hope so.”

Felix offered him a soft smile.

“I’m gonna hold you to that.”


	33. Season 2, Episode 11

The biology teacher announced that the rest of the week would be spent watching something.

Specifically, a movie rather than a documentary.

There was much rejoicing.

The teacher began passing out worksheets to go along with the movie.

There was no more rejoicing.

 

* * *

 

Another day, another table read.

 

* * *

 

“Did you really help with that cake?”

“Yes.”

“How much?”

Sam tilted his head.

“Like, did you just pour out the flour or what?”

“I mixed the batter.”

“Yeah?” Felix asked, watching him. “Full of hidden talents, aren’t you?”

 

* * *

 

Sam briefly considered telling Megan and Mason about the dinner with Felix.

He watched them talk and joke, then decided he couldn’t risk destroying that easy camaraderie again.

 

* * *

 

“As for you, Sammy: Better, but keep working on those voice inflections. You’ve got the hang of later scenes, but I’m not satisfied with the ones before. I know you can do better, okay? Okay.”

Felix moved on to his critique of someone else before Sam could say anything.

 

* * *

 

“How do you convey emotions with your voice?”

“What?” Felix laughed. “I think you know that better than I do.”

Sam shook his head. “I don’t. You said so yourself at the start of the year, I’ve got a ‘murder voice’.”

Felix stared at him. “You remember that?”

“It was memorable.”

“Apparently,” Felix said, eyebrows rising.

“My question stands. How do you do it?”

“Oh. Hmm. Well, I doubt I can do much to help you with that right now,” Felix said, then waved a hand. “But whatever, we’ve got plenty of time. Just remind me at our next study session.”

“Alright.”

 

* * *

 

Sam continued working on his voice when his parents weren’t home.

As far as he could tell, he made no progress.

 

* * *

 

The first half of Wednesday went by without incident. The latter half devolved halfway through dinner.

“How’s drama?” asked Sam’s mother.

“Fine. Like always.”

“What are you all doing now?”

In a matter of minutes, Sam summarized everything involving the play, including his role in it.

“Romeo?” his father asked, expression clearly broadcasting his surprise. “That’s a principal role!”

“More or less. It’s not _Romeo And Juliet_ , it’s a mixture of Shakespeare’s most iconic scenes,” Sam explained.

His parents hummed in understanding.

“But you still have to kiss Juliet, no?”

Sam had seen the script. He knew the story and was fully aware of what the role entailed.

And yet, somehow, the truth of the matter didn’t hit him until that precise moment.

Did first kisses count if they were only part of a performance?

 

* * *

 

The algebra teacher informed them all that an assembly would be held later in the day, halfway through their fifth class.

Sam barely heard any of the details that followed, too wrapped up in his dilemma— a dilemma hardly warranting such a title, as there wasn’t much of a choice involved, or anything that needed solving.

He chanced a glance at Julie, seated a few rows away.

It wasn’t a dilemma; it was merely a personal grievance.

 

* * *

 

“Sam?”

“Yes?”

Mason’s gaze was scrutinizing. “Something on your mind?”

“Somewhat,” Sam replied.

There was a pause while Mason watched him expectantly, eventually prompting, “Mind telling me?”

It would be silly to bring up an issue with the play’s casting _now_ , wouldn’t it?

“It doesn't matter.”

 

* * *

 

Halfway through drama, true to his algebra teacher’s words, Ms. Green had them all gather their things and begin heading towards the gym, where the assembly would take place.

“Ah, this again,” Felix muttered.

Sam tilted his head.

“Prom,” Felix said. “Every year, it’s the same talk. Mostly common sense stuff. I’d call the assembly a waste of time, but hey, as long as we’re not stuck outside playing sports, I can’t complain too much.”

 

* * *

 

Prom was scheduled almost exactly a month from then.

Sam had never gone to one, and doubted he ever would.

He had bigger things to worry about.

 

* * *

 

With Friday off from school, there wasn’t much for him to do but finish his homework and practice vocal inflections— something which, even if he’d had some idea of how to do, he doubted he would’ve done for longer than he did.

There was only so much mental focus he could divert from the fact that within two months, if not less due to rehearsals, he’d have his first kiss over and done with.

Obviously, it would only be a brief press of mouths, certainly harboring no affection beyond the basic fondness one held for pleasant classmates.

But still.

It was silly, Sam knew, and yet he couldn’t help feeling disappointed.

 

* * *

 

“You said to remind you to help me with my voice.”

Felix snapped his fingers. “Right! Yes, that. I dunno, you wanna get it outta the way before we start on the textbook?”

“Why not?”

 

* * *

 

“How about this: Try thinking of your voice as a bunch of clouds.”

“What?”

“You know, each word’s a small puff of air, so a cloud. With me so far?”

“.....”

“Just go with it. Okay, so. As an extremely general rule, positive emotions go high, negative ones go low. Picture that in your mind. When you talk and wanna sound happy, make the cloud float up. When you wanna sound angry, send it down to the ground.”

“.....”

“ _Come on_ , try it out.”

 

* * *

 

Nearly an hour later, Sam had made decent progress.

It was nowhere near the level he’d like to be at, but it was progress nonetheless.

“Phew,” Felix sighed. “You’re getting there. Keep that up and you’ll actually be able to pull off a less murdery Romeo.”

Sam frowned at the reminder.

Felix raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Okay, what is it now?”

Hmm. How best to convey the issue without... Well, facing any of the repercussions that came with conveying the issue?

“I have to kiss Julie,” he said.

Both Felix’s eyebrows shot up. “Is that a problem?” he asked.

“No...”

“So what’s the big deal? Worried she’ll get ideas?” Felix suggested, smirk giving way to a proper laugh. “Oh, man. Your poker face is as shitty as ever, I love it.”

Sam glared.

Felix rolled his eyes and his laughter died down. “Alright, alright. I’m listening.”

Sam carefully considered his words. After much deliberation, he finally settled on an eloquent, “For how long?”

Felix squinted.

“For how long do I have to kiss her?” Sam elaborated.

“How long...? _Sam_. It’s a kiss. You just kiss her. Simple.”

“But... For how long?”

Felix threw his hands up. “I don’t know, for however long you kiss people? It’s not rocket science.”

In theory, it was perfectly sound advice. In actuality...

He was just going to have to say it, wasn’t he?

“I’ve never kissed anyone,” Sam said, wishing he could pull the word clouds right back in before they’d even fully left his mouth.

They remained floating in the air between the two of them, undisturbed in the ensuing silence.

Predictably, it was Felix who broke it.

“...What, like a make out session? Okay, weird. You’re, what, seventeen? Eighteen? You should’ve made out by now,” he said, brow furrowed. “But also? That’s totally beside the point. Romeo only kisses Juliet once in this play, and it’s when she’s supposed to be dead. All he’s gonna wanna do is give her a quick peck and be done with it, yeah?”

“No,” Sam insisted. “No kisses. At all.”

Felix froze as he was, joking smile included.

Sam stared at him.

“...No kisses?”

Sam shook his head.

“At all?”

Sam said nothing.

“No,” Felix breathed. “Come on, you’re kidding. If you haven’t kissed somebody, somebody’s gotta have kissed you.”

“Only family, and only on the cheeks or forehead,” Sam said.

Felix’s eyes lit up. “ _No_...”

Sam kept watching him.

“...Well,” Felix said, “that just won’t do. You’ve gotta be a believable Romeo. Even if you do pull off a halfway decent kiss, your nerves are gonna show. Yeah, definitely.”

Sam’s thought processes had stopped working at optimal speed somewhere around the point where he’d decided that admitting to never having kissed anyone seemed like a good idea, so Felix’s next words came as a complete and utter surprise.

“I’m gonna help you. C’mon, get over here.”

“What?”

Felix energetically patted a spot on the bed. “ _C’mon_ ,” he said again.

Sam knew what he’d _prefer_ to happen, but was it likely?

He had no idea, but he wasn’t about to lose his chance.

As soon as he took a seat on the bed, Felix turned to face him.

“Ah-ah-ah, legs up on the bed too,” Felix instructed.

Sam obeyed, mirroring Felix’s cross-legged position.

“Better,” Felix said with a nod.

He scooted closer until their knees met, then brought his hands up to rest on either side of Sam’s face.

“You ready?”

“Yes.”

And then Felix was leaning forward and their lips were touching and Sam had no idea what to _do_.

What could he do? What was he _supposed_ to do? _Was_ he supposed to do anything?

Should he breathe? No, he was breathing too much. Or was that Felix breathing?

Sam took in Felix’s face, eyes shut in concentration— Sam should shut his eyes too, shouldn’t he?

He did, and after what felt like both an eternity and no time at all, the pressure on his lips was gone, along with the soft puffs of breath. Sam opened his eyes to find Felix staring at him intently, hands still cupping his face.

“How was that?” Felix asked.

“...Good.”

Felix grinned. “Good,” he repeated. “But y’know, they say the best way to prepare for anything is to go above and beyond. So I’m telling you right now, if you don’t wanna get all jittery onstage, you’re gonna need a little more practice.”

“...Okay.”

“Just like that?” Felix asked, grin widening. “You’re really gonna be that easy, Sammy?”

Sam said nothing, and evidently didn’t need to, as Felix leaned forward to kiss him again.

He was faster to close his eyes this time, leaving his barely functional mind to go into overdrive as it tried to analyze everything that was happening. Felix’s hands lightly caressing his face, the way Felix’s lips were moving against his, how pleasurable such direct stimulation felt...

Felix pulled away, took a deep breath, and dove right back in, opening his lips to slot Sam’s between them.

Or his between Sam’s.

Both.

One of Felix’s hands left Sam’s face to trail down to his chest, pushing gently, and he let himself be pushed. Pushed, pushed, pushed, until he was flat on his back and Felix was leaning over him, keeping the hand on Sam’s chest to hold him down, or perhaps to hold himself up.

The two of them panted loudly, taking deep, heaving breaths, and Felix brought his other hand down to Sam’s stomach, letting it rise and fall with each inhale and exhale.

“ _Sammy_ ,” Felix croaked, eyes wide and lost.

Sam reached for his arms and gently tugged him lower, until they were nearly pressed chest to chest, and then they were kissing again, with Felix bringing his hands back up to stroke at Sam’s face and tangle in his hair.

Felix opened his mouth and his tongue emerged, softly licking at Sam’s lips. As if commanded, Sam immediately parted them and Felix’s tongue flicked in deeper, just enough that he found himself tentatively licking back at it.

Felix pulled away with a wobbly smile. “Fast learner, huh?” he commented, then returned to his task of kissing the living daylights out of Sam.

At least until a knock at the door had him scrambling away and nearly falling off the bed.

“There’s snacks if you’re hungry,” Sam’s mother called through the door.

“...Thanks,” Sam managed to gasp out.

After a few seconds of them both watching the door, rigid with tension, Felix let out a loud sigh and clutched at his chest.

They stayed put for a while, recovering from the unexpected interruption.

Finally, Sam licked his lips and asked, “Do you want any snacks?”

Felix forced out a slightly hysterical laugh. “Yeah. Sure, fine. But hold on,” he said, shuffling back over to Sam. “Your hair’s a mess. Let me just...”

Sam sat up and waited as Felix pulled out his hair tie and got to work rearranging it into what was hopefully a more presentable state.

“There,” Felix said, pulling Sam’s ponytail tight and fastening the hair tie back on. “Now let’s get some snacks.”

 

* * *

 

They returned to Sam’s bedroom, snacks in hand, and for a long time there was only silence.

“Thank you,” Sam said, the words leaving him on impulse.

Felix seemed confused for a moment, then grinned and shrugged a shoulder. “Pshhh, no problem. I’ve gotta make sure you’re the best you can be out on that stage, after all.”

...So that was the route they were going.

Sam was certain that if he’d been in the same situation a year ago, he would’ve taken Felix’s justification at face value. It was a simple favor between veteran and novice, nothing more.

But Sam knew better now. Better in general, and better when it came to Felix.

He nodded and opened his textbook.

Miraculously, there were no more interruptions throughout the rest of the session, for all the good it did their distracted minds. Sam read aloud from the chapter, processing none of it, and judging by Felix’s mildly attentive expression, none of it was being absorbed there either.

They reached the end of the study session without any more discussion of what had occurred between them.

 

* * *

 

“Are you okay?” Sam’s mother asked.

“Yes...?”

She looked at him intently. “Yeah?”

Sam attempted a casual shrug.

“...Okay.”


	34. Season 2, Episode 12

Despite Sam’s efforts, it was difficult to keep his eyes from constantly straying to Felix throughout history.

It seemed that Felix had a similar problem, given all the times their eyes met.

Once history finished, Felix left the room without a word, though he did maintain a prolonged bout of eye contact in the process.

 

* * *

 

Mason was right there.

They were working on a worksheet together.

Should Sam tell him? Would it make him upset?

Sam didn’t want to upset him, but he didn’t want to hide developments from him either.

Then again, it wasn’t really hiding if those developments were none of his business in the first place, was it?

All the same, the thought of leaving him in the dark didn’t sit well with Sam.

He should tell Mason.

And Megan too.

Though perhaps not together.

But who should he tell first?

 

* * *

 

“Sam?” Megan asked.

“Yes?”

“You look a little worried. Something on your mind?”

“Somewhat.”

She watched him curiously.

“I’ll tell you later,” he offered.

 

* * *

 

The literature teacher announced an essay due in two months.

Sam wondered what things with Felix would be like in two months.

 

* * *

 

“Next week, there’s no school,” Felix said.

Cheers sounded throughout the room.

“What that means,” Felix went on, “is that you’ve all got this week and the next to memorize your lines. As soon as we get back from spring break, we’ll start on blocking, and if you don’t know your lines, tough luck. We won’t be waiting up for you.”

Tension replaced the room’s optimism.

Felix offered them all a bright smile. “Now let’s get to work!”

 

* * *

 

“Think you'll have everything memorized in time?”

Sam nodded.

“Great,” Felix said. “Then it'll just be the blocking to take care of, and that should be easy enough. Maybe. I dunno, we’ll see.”

Sam said nothing, watching Felix from the corner of his eye.

Felix either didn't notice or didn't care, and continued to ramble on until they reached the gym.

 

* * *

 

“Pssst.”

Sam looked around and spotted Felix leaning out from behind a corner. Specifically, the corner of a small wall directly beside the gym doors that Sam had just walked out of.

He’d never understood the purpose of the wall, but that mystery paled in comparison to the greater question of what exactly Felix was doing behind it. Though it was true that the days had grown warm enough for Felix to start foregoing his hoodie, it was still hard to believe that he’d willingly linger outside for longer than strictly necessary.

Sam approached in confusion.

“Come on, come on, we don't have all day,” Felix muttered, grabbing Sam's arm and tugging him the rest of the way.

“What—?”

Felix shushed him and said, “You've only got the first step down, but not the second.”

Sam raised an eyebrow.

“ _Kissing_ ,” Felix hissed. “You've gotta get up on that stage and kiss Julie, but if all the kissing you've ever done is in your bedroom, it’s not gonna be that easy. You following me?”

Sam would've rolled his eyes if he didn't suspect it would upset Felix.

He nodded instead.

“Good,” Felix said, and promptly wrapped his hands around the back of Sam’s head and pulled him close, kissing him just as thoroughly as before.

Though Sam had been expecting it, nothing could've prepared him for the sensation of Felix’s tongue swiping at his lips in public. On school grounds, no less. Anyone who left the gym and decided to walk towards the back of it would instantly pass the small wall and spot them.

Hmm. The voyeur would become the voyeur'd.

Unfortunate.

But so be it.

He kissed Felix back, sliding their lips together and opening his mouth, then brought his tongue into the mix, licking and prodding with steadily lessening hesitation.

There was a wet noise as Felix pulled away and stared at him.

Sam was tempted to say he'd caught Felix off guard.

“...Well, then,” Felix said, clearing his throat. “I think that's enough practice for today.”

And with that, he left Sam standing there and tottered off towards the parking lot, gait stiff and uneven.

 

* * *

 

It occurred to Sam that he should probably inform Diana of recent developments.

After completing his homework, which he already had plenty of trouble concentrating enough to accomplish, he tried his best to formulate a text for her.

To his chagrin, constructing any potential message to communicate the fact that he'd kissed Felix required thinking about the fact that he'd kissed Felix, and if his shoddily completed homework was any indication, no productivity would come of that.

He could either tell Diana nothing, try to tell Diana something amidst all his Felix-related mental distractions, or simply dwell on his Felix-related mental distractions with no pretense that it was to inform Diana of anything.

He chose the third option.

 

* * *

 

During history, Felix collaborated with Sam on their worksheets like he usually did, without saying or doing anything out of the ordinary.

After history, Felix dragged Sam away to a not-at-all private area, though it did happen to be empty right then.

“We need to level up your training,” he said.

A split-second later, he was kissing Sam again— just a brief press of slightly open lips, and then it was done.

Felix leaned back and wildly looked around, but the area remained clear of onlookers.

“Is my training going to progress to fully public displays at some point?” Sam asked, trying his best to hold back an amused smile.

Felix scowled, somehow managing to look unsure as he did so. “Hey, I’m risking my reputation to help you out here!” he hissed indignantly.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “You have a reputation?”

Felix glared at him.

Sam maintained eye contact.

Felix huffed and walked off, presumably to his next class, and Sam allowed himself the smile.

 

* * *

 

“Mason.”

“Yeah?”

“I have news.”

Mason shot him a curious look. “What news?” he asked.

“News about Felix.”

Immediately, Mason’s expression turned stony.

“He hasn’t done anything questionable,” Sam reassured.

“Then what?” Mason asked, glancing around until he spotted the biology teacher occupied on the other side of the room. “It wouldn’t be ‘news’ if it was something _good_.”

“It is,” Sam said.

Mason stared at him.

Well, it was now or never.

Sam took a breath.

Mason continued staring.

Right, he had to actually say it.

“...We kissed.”

Sam watched as Mason’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open. Then, just as quickly, his face contorted into a grimace.

“I can’t _believe_ him,” he muttered, looking away.

Sam tilted his head.

Mason glanced back at him and scoffed.

“Is that bad?” Sam asked. He’d had a feeling Mason wouldn’t be too pleased to hear it, but the reaction was still more intense than he’d expected.

“Bad? No, it’s not _bad_ ,” Mason grumbled. “Hell, it obviously means a lot to you, and if it were with anyone else, I’d clap you on the back and congratulate you. But it’s _Felix_.”

“Is Felix bad?”

Mason sighed and slumped in his seat. “You heard Megan’s stories.”

Sam nodded.

“Sam... Felix isn’t a _good_ person. Not when it comes to this kind of thing, at least. Sure, he’s fun to hang out with, to be friends with. But this? Do you have any idea how many times I’ve seen him in any sort of halfway decent relationship?”

“How many?”

“Zero,” Mason answered. “I’ve never seen it, and as far as I know, neither has anyone else. But do you know how many times I’ve seen him mess with people? String them along? Break their hearts?”

“...How many?”

“The record so far is five. At the same time.”

Sam shouldn’t have been surprised, not with everything he already knew about Felix, and yet...

“Ten minutes left!” the teacher called, cutting their conversation short.

 

* * *

 

On the way to lunch, nothing more was said on the subject of Felix, and at lunch itself, Mason hastily latched onto Megan’s chosen topic for the day.

Sam stewed over his warning.

 

* * *

 

“Sam? Are you okay?”

“...Somewhat.”

Megan’s brows drew together in worry.

Sam floundered, unsure what more to say. He’d promised to tell her about what had happened, but so soon after telling Mason? Not to mention, their literature class was right around the corner.

“I’ll call you later,” he offered.

 

* * *

 

“Mm, c’mere,” Felix said, striding past the gym door and disappearing behind the wall beside it.

Sam obediently followed.

As soon as he rounded the corner, Felix reached out and grabbed him by his shirt collar, tugging him close and mashing their mouths together. Sam responded in kind, pressing his body to Felix’s and crowding him back against the wall.

Felix pulled away slightly, narrowing his eyes at Sam.

“Huh. Overstepping your boundaries there, don’t you think?” he asked.

Sam stared at him.

The sound of the gym door opening prompted Felix to shove him away and dart back out from behind the wall.

“Catch ya’ inside, Sammy!” he called, followed by the sound of the gym door opening again.

Sam stood there a moment, then made his way into the gym.

 

* * *

 

He remembered he’d promised to call Megan.

After an hour and a half of deliberating over what to say, how to say it, and anticipating Megan’s possible questions, he made the call.

“Hello?”

“Megan, it’s Sam.”

“Oh, hi!” she exclaimed. “What’s up?”

He took a deep breath and launched into his recount of all that he considered worth telling. The minutes ticked by as he talked, with Megan providing the occasional hum in reaction to his words. At last, Sam’s highly rehearsed speech came to a close, and for a while, silence followed.

“...Megan?”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t have questions?”

“No, I do,” she said. “I’m just trying to figure out where to start.”

He flipped through his list of possible questions and said, “I could suggest a few.”

“I’m sure you could,” she laughed.

“‘Why didn’t you tell me sooner?’” he read out.

She hummed and said, “No, I already know how you are.”

He frowned. “‘Have you told Mason?’” he tried.

“Of course you have, you two were super weird at lunch today.”

For the third—and if he was newly unsuccessful, final—time, he attempted, “‘What are you going to do?’”

“How would you even answer that one?”

“...Good point.”

Some short conversing later, they were no nearer to reaching any sort of breakthrough. For all that Sam could predict Megan’s questions, she could predict his answers. Similarly, she guessed Mason’s reaction well enough, and aside from that, didn’t provide any more insight into Felix beyond what she already had.

Sam was on the verge of putting an end to the call when she added, “Sure, Mason’s not wrong about Felix’s relationships. Well, ‘relationships’. But even he’s gotta admit that nothing like this has ever happened before.”

“Hmm?”

“Felix getting this far with someone he’s honestly interested in,” Megan elaborated. “Yeah, he’s had a terrible track record with people who’ve been interested in him _and_ people he’s been interested in, but he’s got _no_ record with people he’s interested in being interested _back!_ You’re exploring the Felix frontier!”

That just made Sam sound like an outlaw, possibly one on the run from Mason’s law.

“What I’m saying is... Do what you want!” Megan encouraged.

It wasn’t advice Sam had ever been good at following, but he didn’t see why he shouldn’t try.

 

* * *

 

Again, Felix dragged Sam away after history, and again, furtively scanned the area before planting a quick kiss on him.

 

* * *

 

On the way to the gym, Felix called Sam behind the wall again, and again, he went and got his mouth attacked.

 

* * *

 

On the way _out_ of the gym, Felix once again enacted the same routine, and again, Sam played along to get his prize.

 

* * *

 

Again, again, again. Short, clandestine kisses throughout the school day.

All of which Felix seemed to be writing off as some form of practice.

They should probably talk about that at some point.

 

* * *

 

“Hey... Sami?”

Sam gave his father a curious look.

“How’s everything going in school?”

“Fine,” Sam said.

“Yeah? You have a lot of friends?”

“Just three. The ones I always talk about.”

His father nodded. “And who’s the best?”

“Best friend?” Sam asked. “Felix.”

“Ah, so Felix is the best friend,” his father mused, nodding in consideration. “Why is he the best?”

Sam might be socially awkward, but he wasn’t clueless, and he’d spent all his life learning the ins and outs of his parents’ own socialization methods.

In other words, he knew exactly what angle his father was coming from, and exactly what information he was after.

“He helps me,” Sam said.

“With drama?”

“Yes.”

“And you help him with history. That’s very good. You have to be grateful to people who help you, and try to help them too.”

Sam offered his father an obliging smile.

 

* * *

 

He took the opportunity to skim through the history chapter one last time, determined to absorb something more after the learning fiasco that was the last study session.

Fiasco as far as learning about history, at any rate.

 

* * *

 

Felix dragged him away after history yet again, but to both their chagrin, the area that had been previously deserted was now occupied by a handful of people.

“Goddammit,” Felix muttered under his breath. “Don’t they know I’ve got lessons to teach you?”

Sam let out an amused breath.

Felix raised an eyebrow. “What’s so funny?”

Sam had a feeling Felix wouldn’t take kindly to having his ‘lessons’ called into question, so instead suggested, “Maybe they’d like to watch. Visual learning.”

“...Just for that, I’m canceling lessons today,” Felix said with a glare.

The last of the people in the area departed, leaving the two of them alone once more.

“But,” Felix went on, “today’s history test was hard, and I’m pretty sure I passed it thanks to you. That deserves a little something.”

The kiss caught Sam by surprise. He hadn’t expected Felix to abandon the pretense of lessons so easily, much less in a place recently occupied by potential onlookers. All the same, he soon overcame his surprise, sighing into the kiss and reaching out to pull Felix closer—

The bell rang and they broke apart.

“Fuck!” Felix gasped. “See you, Sammy!”

He ran off, leaving Sam to quickly shuffle his way to biology.

 

* * *

 

“You being late wouldn’t have anything to do with Felix, would it?”

Sam said nothing and neither did Mason, though his silence spoke volumes.

What exactly those volumes were, Sam felt confident that he could hazard a guess.

 

* * *

 

“This is your last reminder,” Felix told them. “ _Learn your lines_. You’ve got next week off, so use it wisely.”

 

* * *

 

As they reached the gym doors, Sam fell back a few steps.

Felix turned to look at him. “What?” he asked.

“...Aren’t we...?”

“Hey, I said lessons were cancelled and I meant it. Now come on, I doubt you wanna be late to P. E. too,” Felix said, entering the gym.

Sam frowned but followed along.

As fate would have it, the hour was to be spent passing out report cards, dooming them to sit together in an odd silence.

When Felix acquired his report, Sam glanced over at it.

Decent grades.

When Sam acquired his own, Felix loomed over his shoulder.

“Aww, still having algebra troubles? Sure you don’t need a tutor?”

“No,” Sam growled.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Sammy?”

Sam gave Felix a curious look.

Felix whipped his head back and forth, then darted forward and clumsily pressed their lips together before jumping away.

Sam stared at him. “What was that for?”

“Because,” Felix said with a shrug.


	35. Season 2, Episode 13

Sam spent the first days of spring break memorizing what few lines he still hadn’t. He also took the opportunity to finish his other classes’ homework and write the first draft of his literature essay.

Once he’d done all that, he still had the rest of the week to contend with, and not much to distract him from his Felix-related thoughts.

They were worse than _ever_.

 

* * *

 

The days had steadily gotten warmer and warmer, and were now the perfect temperature for Sam to set up his tent and make a triumphant return to camping.

Somehow, it didn’t feel as triumphant as he’d imagined it would.

 

* * *

 

“Felix is gonna come the Saturday after this one?”

“Yes.”

Sam’s mother gave a noncommittal hum. “And you two will go to your tent?”

“Yes.”

She shared a glance with his father.

Sam looked between them both.

Finally, his mother simply said, “Alright.”

 

* * *

 

Sam took to filling out the friend journal in his tent.

He’d long ago completed the pages asking about himself, leaving him with only friend-oriented ones, and unlike the handful of pages exclusively targeting his best friend, the majority of the journal was inclusive of all his friends, asking about different ones, or for specific traits of theirs.

There was an entire page he’d dedicated to Megan’s carefree attitude, including her love of gossip and the readiness with which she spread it. In Sam’s eyes, none of that was inherently negative. It could be terribly inconvenient for those directly affected, but his curious nature meant that he always appreciated her conversations, despite rarely joining in.

Various pages harbored his notes on Mason, addressing the openness he regularly displayed and the care he so clearly had for his friends. Though his distrust of Felix and subsequent warnings often put a damper on things, Sam could tell it all came from a place of good intentions, and for that, he made sure to hold them near and dear, if not actually heed them.

Being both family and friend, Diana showed up throughout the journal as well. In a way, she was his oldest friend, and the one he had the most memories of. Granted, they weren’t the kinds of memories the journal seemed to be asking for, but that was alright. He’d always treasure those backyard adventures.

Then there were the best friend pages.

Sam’s entries regarding Felix had gradually grown more and more overt. Not in terms of explicitness—that was exclusive to his imagination—but in sheer adulation. Sam didn’t mean to do it, but he couldn’t help it either. Even the entries where he went on at length about Felix’s faults had a sort of grudging respect to them.

Reading back over all those pages, his infatuation with Felix was plain to see. If he weren’t still firmly in the depths of it, he’d probably find it embarrassing.

And he hadn’t even filled out any pages since their kisses began.

 

* * *

 

On Friday, after days and days of being plagued by Felix-related thoughts, Sam decided to take matters into his own hands.

Literally speaking.

He lay in bed, since his parents still discouraged him from sleeping out in his tent despite the warmer nights. If not for that, he’d likely still be in it, and wasn’t that a thought? Lying in his tent, doing what he was about to do?

Hmm. Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea in practice. How would he ever be able to invite Felix back into it afterwards?

Then again, Felix had always made himself perfectly at home on Sam’s bed, the same bed where Sam had masturbated countless times, and was about to do so again.

While thinking of Felix, no less.

Sam’s hand was wrapping around himself before he knew it, mind delving into the fantasy of having Felix on his bed, _in_ his bed, watching and touching and kissing. Sam could reciprocate, watching and touching and kissing Felix back, and the two of them could achieve orgasm together.

But no.

The fantasy was unrealistic and Sam knew it. Felix was too _Felix_ to settle for something so mundane.

He’d want to be treated with the adoration he believed himself worthy of.

How to do that?

Running purely on instinct, Sam worked his hands over his body and erection, mind occupied with the question of how to please Felix.

Perhaps through prioritization of his needs?

Sam would have to focus on Felix and forget all about himself. He’d need to busy his hands with Felix and kiss him on end. He could trail those kisses to his neck, over the planes of his chest, go past his slender torso, down to...

Down to...

Hmm.

Was that how blowjobs started?

Sam didn’t know much about them, but what he did know seemed to confirm that suspicion, which brought him to his next question.

Would Felix appreciate a blowjob from him?

He had a feeling the answer was affirmative, and even though he didn’t know anything more than basic blowjob theory, he found himself wanting to learn more.

From experience.

Sam’s train of thought picked back up, continuing its trail of kisses down to Felix’s cock. He’d kiss it, right on the tip, and swipe at it with his tongue once Felix began leaking. Swipe, kiss, swipe, kiss. Over and over again, using his mouth to show his adoration.

He didn’t know how Felix would react. What few glimpses he’d had of Felix losing control weren’t nearly enough for Sam to predict how he’d behave during sex. Surely he’d be genuine and set his act aside?

Sam had no idea, but his orgasm was fast approaching, so it was with that uncertainty that his pleasure reached its peak. He wrung out every last drop of it, then cleaned himself up and waited for his heartbeat to slow.

As he let sleep overtake him, he resolved to find out what Felix was like in bed.

 

* * *

 

Sam woke up the next morning with a single goal in mind: Felix.

It was Saturday, and though Sam had never learned anything more about Felix’s occasional shifts at his family’s store, chances were he’d be there again. After all, their first encounter at it had been on a Saturday, and if he wasn’t there, some relative of his probably would be.

Either way, Sam saw it as a wonderful learning opportunity.

 

* * *

 

“Don’t tell me you secretly _liked_ the candy.”

“No,” Sam said, walking towards Felix before the store’s door had even shut. “I wanted to see you.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet,” Felix cooed.

Sam came to a stop in front of him with only the counter to separate them.

Felix grinned. “Well, here I am,” he said, holding out his arms.

Sam said nothing.

Felix’s grin faded and his arms fell. “What, not as great as you remembered?”

In lieu of answering, Sam slowly reached out a hand in Felix’s direction. For all the confusion on his face, Felix didn’t move away, so Sam took hold of his collar and gently tugged him forward.

“Sam, what—?”

Sam’s other hand came up, carefully pressing a finger to Felix’s lips, whose eyes widened at the gesture. It took all of Sam’s willpower to keep a smile at bay, and he moved the hand back, cupping Felix’s head and closing in.

With their mouths on the verge of meeting and Felix’s eyes half-lidded, Sam stilled.

“.....”

“.....”

“...Sammy?”

“Hmm?”

“Aren’t you going to kiss me?”

“No.”

Sam let go of Felix and pulled away.

The variety of expressions Felix’s face went through in the following seconds was fascinating to watch.

“ _Sam!”_

Sam raised an eyebrow.

Felix spluttered for a moment, as if unsure what grievance to open with, before settling on pointing a finger at him and snarling, “Either you get back here and finish what you started, or your lessons are _over_.”

“I was under the impression that they already were,” Sam said.

Felix gritted his teeth.

Sam stayed put.

“Fuck this,” Felix muttered.

He promptly clambered over the counter and took hold of Sam’s face, mashing their lips together and swiping his tongue out. Sam met him with equal enthusiasm, and in less than a minute, they were exchanging kiss after heated kiss in the middle of the empty store.

Their mouths moved in unison, sliding against each other to a steady rhythm. Sam stroked Felix’s sides, getting a better feel for his frame, and Felix continued holding Sam’s face, keeping him right where he wanted him.

Coincidentally, it was right where Sam wanted himself too.

Felix abruptly ducked down and began kissing Sam’s neck, crossing from one side to the other. His hands left Sam’s face and skimmed over his shoulders, dragging along his back. Sam gave a small jump when they settled on his rear and gave it a rough squeeze.

“F- Felix...”

Felix breathed out a questioning noise as he licked and nibbled at a spot on Sam’s neck.

“...This isn’t practice anymore, is it?”

“Mm, sure it is,” Felix murmured, abandoning Sam’s neck in favor of his lips.

Sam returned the kiss, tongue included, but then pulled away to ask, “It is?”

“Yeah,” Felix replied, hands still groping Sam’s rear. “Just not for the play.”

“Then for what?”

Felix watched him a long moment.

Sam maintained eye contact.

Felix opened his mouth, glancing off to the side, then suddenly shoved Sam away and turned to scramble back over the counter.

“Wh—”

“Shh! Pretend you’re shopping!” Felix hissed, hands frantically gesturing at the shelves. “Quick!”

Sam obediently turned to the nearest one and picked up a box of cookies just as the bell above the store’s door rang. As discreetly as he could, he sneaked a peek at the newcomer.

It was a woman.

She strutted in and headed directly for the counter. Her stance was tall and proud, despite her average stature, and her boots clicked imposingly against the floor tiles. She strode right up to the counter, moved her sunglasses to rest on her head, and asked, “How’s business today, Isaac?”

Isaac?

_Isaac?_

Felix gave a casual shrug, in contrast to his still heaving chest.

The woman turned around and Sam steadfastly focused on the cookies he held.

“Hmm. Well, that’s the first time I see someone that young in here,” she muttered. “Pass me the money, would you?”

Sam glanced back up to see Felix opening the cash register and scooping out its contents. He handed it over and the woman proceeded to count it out under her breath.

“Not bad,” she finally declared. “Did you write it all down?”

Felix nodded.

The woman made an approving noise. “Perfect. Oh, and here’s a little something for you,” she said, placing a single bill on the counter. What remained of the small wad of money went into her purse as she readjusted her sunglasses. “Okay, I’ll see you later, then.”

And with that, she turned on her heel and walked out, boots clicking all the way.

The ring of the store’s bell filled the air for some seconds, then only silence.

Sam set the cookies back on the shelf and asked, “‘Isaac’?”

Felix glared, crossing his arms.

“Is that your given name?”

“Would you believe me if I said it wasn’t?”

“No,” Sam said, walking back up to the counter. “But I can forget it.”

Felix rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right. You never forget anything.”

“Maybe so. I can still try.”

A pause, and Felix’s glare softened. “I’m gonna hold you to that,” he said.

Sam nodded.

Felix let out a sigh.

“Who is she?” Sam asked.

“My mom,” Felix huffed. “What, couldn’t see the resemblance?”

No, Sam could. The lithe frame, the pointed face. The strut and posture too, now that he thought about it.

“Somewhat.”

“Hmph. _Anyway_. C’mere,” Felix said, crooking a finger towards himself.

Sam took a step closer and Felix leaned over the counter, taking hold of his face once more and closing in.

Before their lips could meet, Sam asked again, “Practice for what?”

Felix stilled, brow furrowing as he leveled Sam with an unimpressed look. “You’re not gonna stop asking, are you?”

Sam shook his head.

Felix continued to stare, grinding his jaw. “ _Fine_ ,” he grumbled. “You give me boners, okay? And apparently I give you some too. So let’s take care of each other’s boners. Sound good?”

Sam blinked.

“What, not romantic enough for you?” Felix asked. “I already got you those roses, what more do you want?”

“...You got them for me?”

“Duh,” Felix said. “Who else?”

“You said they were for yourself,” Sam pointed out.

“Yeah, the _rest_.”

Sam squinted. “You also said about three weren’t yours.”

“I say a lot of things.”

Well, Sam couldn’t argue with that.

“Now _come on_ ,” Felix insisted, leaning back in.

Sam mirrored him and their lips met, the kiss lacking the heat from earlier despite its open-mouthed nature. It was slow and methodical, a promise of something more.

Affectionate.


	36. Season 2, Episode 14

What were they?

The question had plagued Sam the rest of the weekend, and his return to school did nothing to alleviate its persistence.

Yes, Felix had more or less admitted that what they were doing was no longer strictly for academic use.

Yes, Felix had grudgingly confessed that their attraction and arousal was mutual.

Yes, Felix had _asked_ Sam to kiss him.

But what did that make them?

The kisses, the touches, the gifts... It all pointed to something other than basic friendship.

What Sam lacked in speaking, he made up for in listening, and there were a multitude of topics that could be heard about within the confines of a high school. As such, he was well aware of the concept of friends with benefits. It felt like a viable option, though from his limited understanding, arrangements of that nature rarely worked out.

Even if that wasn’t what Felix was after, Sam would hesitate to call them a couple. A couple would discuss their relationship in plain terms, which was the complete opposite of what Felix had done.

Lovers? That term appeared to be reserved for people whose trysts included sex, which theirs didn’t, though Felix had seemed to imply it was on the table.

In short, Sam found himself utterly lost in his thoughts as he walked into algebra, which didn’t bode well for the rest of the school day.

To his relief, the actual lesson was postponed in favor of some announcements. The teacher passed out various sheets of paper and briefly summarized each. Most of them had to do with the upcoming graduation, giving information necessary for the acquisition of robes as well as detailing the ceremony’s time and date.

Looking over the prices, Sam remembered Felix’s plans to skip the ceremony. Given that the school would send their diplomas in the mail if they didn’t attend, Sam thought about following Felix’s example and avoiding the whole thing altogether. Ceremony or no ceremony, his parents would be proud of him for graduating.

The final sheet of paper was an order form for yearbooks, which would be handed out on the last day of school.

Sam had a couple from his past schools, and though he wasn’t particularly fond of going through them, he imagined ordering one for his last year of high school was fitting. He had actual consistent friends worth remembering, and even his other drama classmates merited some fond memories. Sam began filling out the form as the teacher talked.

All too soon for his taste, the announcements ended and the algebra lesson started.

 

* * *

 

True to his word, Sam had tried his best to forget Felix’s given name. That didn’t mean he could, or that his curiosity over it would lessen.

Sure enough, the instant Felix walked into history, it came rushing back to the forefront of Sam’s mind, along with all the questions he doubted he’d ever have answered. Immediately, he tried his best to redirect his focus.

He’d promised Felix he’d try to forget, and he intended to keep his promise.

 

* * *

 

The bell rang and Felix casually pulled him towards the nearby secluded area.

Thankfully, it remained secluded, and Felix smoothly turned to face him, pressing a short kiss to his lips.

“There,” Felix said. “That oughta be enough to get you through the day, hm?”

“And you?” Sam asked.

Felix grinned and replied, “I said ‘get through the day’, not ‘take all day’.”

Then, with an accompanying wink and a slap of Sam’s rear, he walked off.

 

* * *

 

Sam should tell Megan and Mason.

Simultaneously.

They already knew about the kisses, so what was one more confusing stage of progression in his undefined relationship with Felix? Tiptoeing around the matter wouldn’t get any of them anywhere. It wasn’t conducive to an actual discussion, and Sam vowed to take the plunge.

At least, he did until he walked into biology and found himself greeted by Mason’s bright, carefree smile.

Sam postponed his plans right then and there.

 

* * *

 

Felix divided the play into its individual scenes, then proceeded to call up the actors necessary for each.

Sometimes he’d give them directions from the start, and sometimes he’d wait until after their initial performance. With all the feedback he gave between scenes, only a third of the play was covered during the hour.

“We probably won’t get through the rest tomorrow either, but be ready just in case,” he said. “Come in with ideas. Who knows, if they’re good enough, I might even let you do them.”

 

* * *

 

The walk to the gym was spent in silence, and once they reached the doors, Felix playfully turned towards Sam and walked backwards behind the wall.

Sam followed, and within seconds Felix’s mouth had latched onto his own. For a while, all they did was kiss, but then one of Felix’s hands trailed down Sam’s side, to his front, then down and—

“Felix!”

“What?” Felix asked. “We said we’d take care of each other’s boners, didn’t we?”

“We are _on school grounds_ ,” Sam growled.

Felix gave a long-suffering sigh. “I’m not about to fuck you right here, okay? But come on, you can’t expect me not to cop a feel.”

Sam blinked, momentarily thrown off by the extremely casual mention of them potentially ‘fucking’.

One side of Felix’s mouth pulled up in a gleeful smile. “And here I thought you might not be as easy to get to anymore,” he said, then strode past Sam and headed into the gym.

 

* * *

 

The final bell rang and Sam exited the gym, only to hear a “pssst!” come from behind him.

He looked back, and as he’d expected, there was Felix, peeking out from behind the wall and beckoning him over. Sam moved closer, but stopped short of Felix’s reach and crossed his arms.

“Just kissing,” he said.

Felix slapped a hand to his face. “Goddammit, keep your voice down.”

“I did.”

“More down. As down as you possibly can. _Down_.”

Sam tilted his head.

“Do I _really_ need to explain why people finding out about us wouldn’t exactly be the greatest thing?” Felix asked incredulously.

“No, but I was under the impression that you didn’t particularly care.”

Felix’s brow furrowed.

“We _have_ been ‘practicing’ throughout the school,” Sam pointed out.

“That— But— Ugh, never mind,” Felix grumbled, crossing his own arms and moodily slumping against the wall.

Sam squinted.

Felix glared off to the side.

“...You like it,” Sam realized.

Felix’s eyes shot back to him.

“You don’t want anyone to find out, but you like the idea of it,” Sam elaborated, spurred on by Felix’s widening eyes. “Does it remind you of performing?”

Felix’s stare remained pinpointed on him, jaw relentlessly grinding, and Sam patiently waited for an answer.

Finally, Felix muttered, “Look, Mr. Peeping Tom, I didn’t exactly ask for your opinion, alright? Hmph. Where would you and your Peeping Tom friends even be if it weren’t for people like me?”

Sam bristled at the nickname, but took a deep breath and replied, “I’m not giving an opinion. I’m just curious.”

“Yeah?” Felix asked. “Then come be curious over here.”

He watched Sam expectantly.

Sam went.

To his relief, Felix made no further attempts to publicly fondle him, though he held no doubt that it was only a matter of time until the next.

 

* * *

 

Sam had delayed long enough.

If all hell broke loose, then so be it.

He stared at Megan and Mason sitting across from him and opened his mouth.

 

* * *

 

Surprisingly, everything turned out much better than expected.

Megan asked numerous questions, as Sam had expected her to, and Mason expressed disapproval, as Sam had expected him to.

The questions stayed firmly within the realm of acceptable and the disapproval was leagues milder than it had once been. Not once did Megan and Mason seem like they were on the verge of fighting, and though Sam didn’t gain anything from having told them, he still felt better for it.

 

* * *

 

He walked into drama to see Mason having a furiously whispered conversation with a clearly annoyed Felix.

Sam supposed some things were too good to be true.

He glanced over at Megan.

Her brow was furrowed and her teeth worked over her lower lip, but she made no effort to intervene, instead heading directly for her desk.

Sam followed her lead, cautiously putting his bag down beside his seat and debating whether or not he should approach them. Perhaps his arrival would only serve to escalate the situation? If it was a situation in the first place. If it wasn’t, then his arrival might just make it so.

Hmm. What to do, what to do?

Before he could decide, the bell rang, and with a few parting words, Mason left Felix and returned to his desk. Megan shot him a worried look but stayed quiet.

“Well,” Felix began, “we’ve got a lot of play to work through, so let’s get blocking. Where did we leave off?”

 

* * *

 

Felix waited until they were well on their way to the gym, with no one in the vicinity, to begin his tirade.

“You told Mason? _Mason!?_ Did you somehow miss the part where he’d bite my head off over it? Because yeah, it’s pretty obvious he’s been telling you what a terrible person I am for a while now,” Felix hissed. “If he ever gets pissed off at you, don’t come crying to me when he gets us _both_ fucked over because you gave him the juiciest gossip around.”

“I told Megan too.”

“Yeah, so what? That’s not what I’m talking about!”

“You’re not worried about her,” Sam observed. “Why?”

Felix scoffed. “That’s not the point, stop deflecting. She’s smart enough to know when to keep her mouth shut, but Mason? _Pshhh_.”

“How do you know she is?” Sam asked.

“That _doesn’t matter_ ,” Felix insisted, gnashing his teeth. “You told Mason!”

Sam sighed and stopped just outside the gym doors. “Yes, I told Mason,” he said, meeting Felix’s eyes. “Can we move on?”

“No! No, we cannot ‘ _move on’_ ,” Felix nearly yelled. “I’m pissed! I’m pissed at you and I’m pissed at him! And I’m not gonna stop being pissed!”

Sam rolled his eyes and entered the gym, leaving Felix angrily spluttering behind him.

 

* * *

 

Their algebra lesson was newly delayed, this time for the purpose of prom votes.

Sam looked at the list of nominees for prom king and queen, hardly recognizing any of the names.

He turned in his ballot as blank as he’d received it.

 

* * *

 

“Sam?”

He gave a grunt of acknowledgment.

Mason watched him, and for a few seconds, they walked to the cafeteria in silence.

“I’m not sorry,” Mason eventually said. “Felix needed to hear what I told him, and it’s not my fault if he decided to get angry over it. But... I _am_ sorry that you’re stuck in the middle of everything.”

Sam offered a disheartened shrug.

Mason continued to watch him.

Feeling as if he should say something, but with no idea what to say, Sam said nothing.

 

* * *

 

Felix ignored him all throughout history, and Sam was prepared for drama to be no exception.

To his surprise, when the time for Romeo and Juliet’s death scene came, Felix announced, “So I guess it’s time to tackle the big elephant in the room.”

A few whispers and giggles met his words.

“As you’re probably all aware, this play only has two kisses between Romeo and Juliet, both during their death scene,” he went on. “Now, I know we’re all professionals here, so in the interest of keeping everything as professional as possible, I’m gonna say that you’re both free to leave the kisses out until the final show. _If_ you want to. Sound good?”

Felix looked directly at him, and Sam realized it was a test.

He nodded.

 

* * *

 

Their walk to the gym was spent in silence.

 

* * *

 

Sam wasn’t angry at Mason.

He wasn’t even angry at Felix.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t be wildly upset at them both.

 

* * *

 

Thursday passed and Felix continued to ignore him.

Megan and Mason’s lunchtime company was subdued.

A new run-through of the play with all proposed blocking changes ensued in drama.

Sam could hardly stand any of it.

 

* * *

 

“Sami?”

“Yes?”

His mother entered his room, shutting the door behind her. He curiously watched as she moved to sit on his bed.

“How have you been?” she asked.

“Fine,” he answered, unsure of her motives.

She hummed in acknowledgment and absently nodded. “Nothing’s happened at school, or with your friends?”

Sam gave a shrug, beginning to suspect the nature of what she was really asking.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Her gaze had him feeling thoroughly explored, every hidden nook and cranny lit up in search of the information she was seeking.

“Okay,” she said at last. “But remember that I’m your mother. I’ll always be here to talk, and I’m always going to love you. Your dad too. We’re both always going to love you.”

Sam swallowed and nodded.

 

* * *

 

The biology teacher decided to wrap up the week’s lesson on STDs by way of an experiment.

She placed clear cups of liquid on each of their desks, and explained that five of them randomly had a hidden ingredient added. Holding up a vial, she explained that once she added a few drops from it to those cups, there would be a chemical reaction that would turn their contents pink. With that, she promptly encouraged them to spend the next five minutes exchanging cup fluids.

“Pour a little bit of your cup into someone else’s, and have them pour a little bit of theirs into yours,” she said. “Once the five minutes are up, go back to your seats and I’ll start testing each of your cups. Remember, you don’t _have_ to mix your cup with anyone else’s.”

Sam resolutely stayed at his seat and watched everyone else mingle. He was fully immersed in his own thoughts when a quiet cough had him blinking back to attention.

Mason stood before him.

“...Wanna mix?” he asked, hesitantly holding out his cup.

Sam said nothing.

Mason’s expression fell. “It’s okay if you don’t want to.”

Sam wordlessly held up his own cup.

Mason’s eyebrows rose and his expression turned hopeful.

Sam nodded.

They exchanged cup fluids.

 

* * *

 

The liquid in Mason’s cup turned a vibrant pink, and shortly thereafter, so did Sam’s.

Mason sent him a sheepish look.

Sam didn’t mind.

 

* * *

 

“And remember, we’ll start meeting in the auditorium again next week!” Felix called out as the bell rang and everyone began filtering from the room.

Sam made his way outside and watched people leave as he waited for Felix.

Julie walked out the door, and to his surprise, rather than veer to the left as she usually did, she headed straight for him. With no small amount of confusion, Sam watched her approach, only to glance back up and spot Felix emerging from the classroom as well.

Their eyes met for the briefest of moments, and then Julie was there, right in front of Sam.

“Hey. Um, Sam?”

“...Yes?”

She looked away, shifted where she stood, then looked back at him with determination in her eyes and confidence in the tilt of her chin.

He would’ve taken a step back if not for the wall behind him.

“I know this isn’t how it usually works, but... Sam, would you come to prom with me?”

Behind her, there was a sharp intake of breath from Felix.

Sam swallowed. “I... I’m not going to prom,” was all he said.

Slowly, Julie’s face relaxed. “Oh. Are you sure?”

He nodded.

She chewed at her lip, gaze scrutinizing.

Felix remained motionless behind her.

At last, she shrugged and said, “Okay. Uh, let me know if you change your mind, I guess.”

She walked off before he could say anything, and he was left staring at Felix.

He looked absolutely _furious_.

Rather than say anything, he strode forward and grabbed the strap of Sam’s bag, then started dragging him along towards the gym.

Sam followed along without protest.

Felix took them straight past the gym doors and to the other side of the wall, where he proceeded to shove Sam against it and then himself against Sam, initiating a desperate, urgent kiss. Sam responded to it in kind, pulling Felix closer and sighing into his mouth.

The sound of someone entering the gym had Felix pausing and, after a couple seconds, taking a small step back.

“I’m not going to prom either,” he breathed. “Didn’t plan to before, don’t plan to now. But Sammy... Be my prom date?”

Sam tilted his head.

“We can just go somewhere and hang out. It’ll be great. Whataya’ say?” Felix asked, holding his arms open in invitation.

“...Apologize,” Sam said.

“What?”

“Apologize.”

“Wh— B— _What for!?”_

“You yelled at me for telling Mason about us,” Sam reminded. “He’s my friend, why wouldn’t I tell him?”

Felix crossed his arms, holding his notebooks close. “Yeah, sure, but guess what? It was _you_ telling _him_ about _us_. That’s one whole person you didn’t ask first: Me!”

He was right, but something still bothered Sam.

“You didn’t mind me telling Megan,” Sam pointed out again.

Felix opened his mouth just as the bell rang.

One shared look of panic later, they both dashed into the gym.

 

* * *

 

Sam was still changing out of his sportswear when Felix appeared by his side.

He raised an eyebrow but Felix shook his head, shooting a glance at the few remaining locker room occupants before studiously peering down at his notebooks. Somewhat understanding the message, Sam got to work changing into his regular clothes, not missing the way Felix’s eyes kept darting back to him and roving over his exposed skin.

Once Sam finished and shouldered his bag, Felix exited without a word. Sam followed along, and as soon as they stepped out of the gym, Felix asked, “Your car?”

Sam nodded.

They walked to the parking lot in silence, and upon reaching the car, Felix leaned against the passenger door and threw him an expectant look. Sam promptly unlocked it and placed his bag in the back, then settled into the driver’s seat and offered Felix an equally expectant look.

“Alright, look,” Felix said, glaring out the front window. “I’m still kind of pissed. That’s not gonna change.”

Sam crossed his arms and followed Felix’s glare out the front window.

“But... I hate this. I hate every time we fight or whatever. It fucking sucks,” Felix said.

Sam shared the sentiment.

Felix sighed and reached down to lower his seat, then twisted and shifted until he was lounging on it.

Sam twisted to look at him and their eyes met.

Felix sighed again. “Sam, what are you doing to me?” he asked.

“I’m not doing anything,” Sam replied.

Felix snorted softly, a hint of a smile showing on his face.

“You haven’t apologized,” Sam added.

“I don’t wanna lose you.”

Sam’s heart skipped a beat.

“Do you have any idea how fucked up I am over all this? I... I _need_ you. And I think you need me too. Am I right?”

Felix was _always_ right.

Sam swallowed.

Felix held out a hand.

Sam stared at it.

Felix wiggled his fingers and Sam hesitantly reached out, bringing their hands together.

“Come to California with me.”

It was a terrible idea, poorly planned and with a hit-or-miss chance of success.

Sam found himself nodding anyway.

 

* * *

 

He’d have to tell his parents.

When, he had no idea.

For now, he was content to revel in his newly strengthened bond with Felix.

 

* * *

 

Their next study session was the most normal yet.

After the initial round of ribbing set off by their return to the tent, as well as additional griping over his lack of hoodie, Felix quieted down and Sam was able to get through the entire textbook chapter with hardly any interruptions. In fact, Felix actually seemed to be listening.

Whether or not he was absorbing the information was another matter altogether, but if Sam’s own clearer state of mind was any indication, there was a decent probability that he really was.

When the time came for Felix to leave, the pair of them walked out to his car. Rather than invite Sam in, Felix stopped beside it and beckoned him closer. As soon as he was close enough, Felix reached out and draped his arms around Sam’s neck, and after a quick glance back at the house, leaned in and pressed another slow, unfrenzied kiss to his lips.

Then Felix got in his car and drove away with a final wave.

Sam was left feeling utterly nonplussed.


	37. Season 2, Episode 15

Felix didn’t kiss Sam after history, but that was alright.

It was enough to simply meet his eyes and share a private smile.

 

* * *

 

The conversation with Mason flowed smoothly once again, and by extension, so did the conversation with Megan.

Little by little, Sam began to feel as if things were returning to normal.

 

* * *

 

Felix had everyone head backstage to look through the available costumes and props.

Each of them was to find a small selection of possible items for their character, and by the end of the hour, Felix would narrow that selection down.

Before Sam could set out on his new task, Felix approached him and offered to help.

“If you’d like to,” Sam replied.

“I’d _love_ to.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Sammy?”

“Yes?”

“I’ve been thinking. We should fuck.”

Sam wildly swiveled his head around but spotted no one in their vicinity.

Felix laughed. “ _Relax_ , I wouldn’t say it if I thought anyone else would hear,” he assured, reaching out and squeezing one of Sam’s shoulders.

Sam stared down at the hand, then back up at Felix.

“You’re stuck on the fucking, aren’t you?” Felix asked.

Sam nodded.

Felix released his shoulder and said, “Well, we should. Just saying.”

“...Wh- What?”

Felix narrowed his eyes. “Hmm. Something tells me it’s not gonna happen anytime soon,” he said. “That’s fine, I’m up for going slow.”

And then, as if to prove his point, he walked right into the gym without any kiss to speak of.

 

* * *

 

Their class was led back to the exercise room, marking Sam’s reunion with the dumbbells.

Felix’s eyes were fixed on him the whole hour, and Sam felt a deep sense of satisfaction.

 

* * *

 

To his relief, the next few days progressed just as easily.

Classes carried on like they always did, Megan and Mason gradually returned to their normal levels of cheeriness, and the overall look of the play was steadily pieced together.

Given that it was a modern retelling of sorts, a comparison between past and present, the decision was made to have their costumes be comprised of both older and newer elements. It soon became evident that it was the right choice, perfectly conveying the theme of the show at a glance.

Felix was immensely proud of himself.

And on the topic of Felix, Sam was...

Confused.

Unsure.

Happy.

But he supposed that wasn't too different from how he normally felt about Felix.

Their interactions had settled into a comfortable routine, one akin to what they'd had mere months ago. They sent each other acknowledging smiles, collaborated during class, and maintained friendly conversations on their walks to the gym. Felix chattered on and on about how things were going in drama, and Sam occasionally threw in a comment or two.

The only silence was in their unspoken understanding.

Felix hadn't made any more attempts at kissing him, but had alluded to something of that nature happening again once Sam agreed to be his ‘prom date’.

He was insistent upon it.

However, even if Sam accepted, which he had no real hesitation to, that left the question of what manner of ‘prom’ it would be. Felix had said they could just hang out, but that was easier said than done.

Hang out where? For how long? Doing what?

At least one of those answers practically fell into Sam’s lap on Thursday afternoon.

“Sami, your dad and I have to go see your Aunt Monica.”

One long-winded and highly apologetic explanation later, the jackpot made its appearance.

“Could you be alone until Sunday?”

Of course.

Especially if he wasn't alone.

 

* * *

 

The next day, the whole school was abuzz over prom.

In a way, Sam was too.

The moment history was over, he headed straight for Felix and said, “You can come over tomorrow.”

Felix quirked an eyebrow. “And what excuse did you give your parents?”

“I didn’t,” Sam said as they came to a stop in their usual secluded area. “They won’t be home.”

Felix’s eyebrows shot up and he let out a disbelieving laugh. “Sammy!” he chided. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure you didn’t get permission for this _at all_.”

Sam guiltily looked away.

“Oh, this is _perfect_ ,” Felix grinned. “What a bad boy you’re becoming. It’s all my influence, isn’t it? I gotta say, it sure is an honor.”

Sam glared at him and asked, “Will you come or not?”

Felix licked his lips and took a step closer. “Sammy... I’m pretty sure we’ll both be coming,” he said, then swiftly turned on his heel and walked away.

 

* * *

 

Sam spent the rest of the day with anticipation bubbling in his gut, stronger and more volatile than it ever was before a performance.

He hardly listened to a word Megan or Mason said, and though he was certain that it made him a bad friend, he found himself completely incapable of actually caring.

With any luck, his ‘prom’ with Felix would serve to free his mind from the seemingly inescapable void it had long ago fallen into. Of course, it only seemed to fall deeper with each passing day, but he had to cling onto the hope that it was still salvageable.

 

* * *

 

Sam had no clue how he got through all his classes, much less the play’s rehearsal.

It seemed that his subconscious had mastered the art of multitasking and never informed him.

Ironic.

 

* * *

 

“So what time should I be getting there at?”

Hmm. Sam was well aware that he should’ve been completely honest with his parents and asked for permission. Though there was nothing he could do about that anymore, he could at least maintain _some_ semblance of propriety.

For what it was worth.

“You can come at eight and stay until eleven.”

Felix watched him.

“P. M.”

“So three hours?”

Sam nodded.

“ _What?”_ Felix asked. “That’s too little! How are we supposed to get anything done in three hours!?”

Sam was no expert, but he was fairly certain that plenty could be done in three hours. Before he could bring up his objections, Felix sighed loudly.

“ _Fine_ ,” he said. “I’ll be there.”

 

* * *

 

Sam spent the next day and a half fretting over _everything_.

He had a feeling he should create a more romantic setting, but he doubted that lighting candles was the wisest of ideas, and short of turning off all the lights, it would likely have no real visual effect either.

Casting his mind back to any and all romantic media he’d ever consumed yielded no better results, and eventually all he trusted himself to do was prepare a meal. His subsequent problem was that he wasn’t a particularly great cook, at least not when it came to fancy dinners. He could put together plain dishes and bake a few things, but create something that exuded presentation and atmosphere?

He really should’ve planned the whole evening better.

By the time Felix knocked on the door, Sam had managed to prepare two sandwiches and some tea, not that he imagined any of it would get appreciated for a good while longer.

Sure enough, as soon as he opened the door, Felix threw himself at Sam, arms around his neck and lips on his like a lifeline.

“Mm, F- Felix—” he got out between kisses, “—I m- made food.”

“Fuck the food,” Felix murmured into his mouth. “We can eat later. Right now I want _you_.”

Immediately, Felix began walking them in the direction of Sam’s room, steps stilted amidst all their kisses.

Sam’s heart pounded. Kissing Felix somewhere as familiar as his room, yet more open, made for a strange experience. In his living room? And the hallway? There was something exhilarating about it.

They eventually stepped into his room and Felix pushed him back onto the bed before deftly clambering atop him and carrying on with their kisses.

“Wait,” Sam breathed, voice starting to lose its steadiness. “Shouldn’t we— Mm... Shouldn’t we shut the door?”

Felix moved to nip and suck at his neck. “What for? No one’s here but us,” he pointed out, followed by his hands plunging beneath Sam’s shirt, rucking it up and exploring the expanse of skin beneath.

It was...

Decadent.

And inexplicably exciting.

Felix pulled away and pushed Sam up the bed, until they were both comfortably stretched out upon it, then resumed his welcome assault. Mouth on Sam’s neck, hands on his chest, hips pressed together.

“You know what Mason said to me the other day?” Felix abruptly asked. “Well, he said a lot of things, but mainly he said that—and I quote—when I left you, I better make it as painless as possible.”

Sam felt himself tense.

Felix quietly chuckled, bringing a hand to Sam’s face and stroking his cheek with a thumb. “But what Mason doesn't realize,” he murmured against Sam’s lips, “is that I don’t plan on _ever_ leaving you. In fact, I'll even take things at your pace.”

Before Sam could fully register his words, Felix was sitting back, hands trailing down as he went. They came to a stop on Sam’s hips, with one sliding right onto his crotch and giving him a soft squeeze. Sam let out a gasp.

“Like this,” Felix grinned. “As much as tonight’s perfect for us to fuck, and as much as I’d _love_ for us to fuck, I'm willing to go slow.” His hand gave another squeeze. “C’mon, Sammy. Show me what you're working with. Show me how you touch yourself.”

Sam felt entirely too overwhelmed to do much but lie there and listen to Felix, watch him, revel in his touches. But Felix was asking him to do something, so Sam had to snap out of his daze and _do it_.

He apparently took long enough that Felix asked, “What, worried I’ll laugh?”

The hand at Sam’s crotch palmed him again before sliding away.

“I _promise_ I won’t,” Felix said.

Oddly enough, Sam wasn’t worried about that at all. He hadn’t even considered the possibility. If anything, he _wanted_ to show Felix, to do what he’d been asked, but there was no getting around his inexperience.

Try as he might, his body was reluctant to cooperate, and it was with great effort that he finally brought a visibly shaking hand to lay against his torso, heartbeat loud in his ears. Felix’s eyes practically glittered as he looked on, and Sam’s hand inched downwards. That was the hardest step, wasn’t it? Exposing himself? If he could just get it over with...

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then another. Breath after breath, each one like Felix had taught him, and soon enough, he was pulling himself out into the open.

“Oh, fuck, I was right.”

Sam opened his eyes and sent Felix a questioning look, apprehension temporarily forgotten.

Felix waved a dismissive hand, glaring somewhere off to the side. “Nothing, nothing. Only, y’know, you’ve kinda got a huge dick. But like, whatever, yeah?”

Sam blinked.

Felix’s eyes darted back down to his exposed erection before looking away again. “Just get on with it,” he muttered.

...Was he flustered?

Why?

_Sam_ was the one lying there with his most intimate parts on display, not _Felix_.

Curiously, he gave himself a firm stroke and watched Felix’s face.

He looked positively riveted.

Sam stroked himself again.

Was Felix breathing?

Sam gathered the fluids he’d leaked and spread them back over himself.

Felix’s eyes were pinpointed on him, following his every movement, apparently unaware that Sam was tracking his own just as intensely. As Sam watched, Felix began idly rubbing at his crotch, and though Sam’s nerves hadn’t dissipated by a long shot, his arousal had grown far beyond their constraint.

He pulled his shirt higher, leaving his torso as exposed as possible, and trailed his fingers over it, his other hand still tugging and fondling his erection.

Before Sam’s eyes, Felix worked his pants open, fingers fumbling but fast, and then there he was.

His assessment of Sam’s size made sense now. Not that Sam was entirely sure why such a thing mattered at all. If there was any benefit inherent to having a larger penis, he’d certainly never experienced it, nor did he have a problem with Felix’s comparatively smaller one.

It was cute.

Felix started touching himself, and Sam’s own actions became automatic. He was no longer putting on some kind of show, but instead masturbating in earnest, spurred on by the sight of Felix doing the same.

Their breaths were loud, but not so loud as to muffle the faint sound of skin on skin, a slight wetness in the noise.

“Sammy...” Felix gasped. “Do you have any idea how much I’m regretting saying that I'd take it slow?”

Sam’s breath hitched, but Felix wasn't done.

“You're such an awkward nerd, but... Fuck, you’re hot...” he said, jerking himself relentlessly. “Do you know that? Do you know how hot you are?”

Sam wasn't sure Felix wanted an actual answer, which was good because he was in no state to give any.

“I'm surprised that no one else asked you to prom...” Felix went on. His brow furrowed and his eyes shut, but then he was looking at Sam again and saying, “It's probably because you're so big and quiet... They think you're intimidating...”

His other hand settled somewhere beside Sam’s head and he leaned forward. Staring Sam straight in the eyes, he panted, “But I know the truth. I was right from the start. You're not intimidating... You're just kind of a bitch.”

For all that the words made a long-forgotten spike of annoyance rise within Sam, he found himself tipping over the edge, perhaps even helped along by that final burst of annoyance and...

And what?

He didn't know, it didn't matter, he was solely focused on riding the waves of pleasure for as long as he could. Distantly, he heard Felix still talking, but none of it mattered anymore.

Eventually, he felt himself go limp, all his energy spent and his stomach covered in his own ejaculate. He blinked himself out of his stupor just in time to see Felix throw his head back and have an orgasm of his own, adding to the mess on Sam’s stomach.

A few seconds later, it was over. Felix hung his head, breathing heavily, and let go of his waning erection to swipe a finger through the puddle of their combined semen.

Sam watched in confusion as he brought the finger back up and licked at it.

“Hmm. Want a taste?” he asked, swiping at the puddle again and bringing the finger to Sam’s mouth.

Unthinkingly, Sam opened.

In the finger went, lightly stroking his tongue on the way out. The taste it left behind was bitter, but not terribly so, and though it wasn't pleasant by any means, knowing what it was of had Sam feeling thoroughly depraved.

Felix quirked an eyebrow but said nothing, only tucking himself away and readjusting his pants before leaning back over and giving Sam a kiss.

It wasn’t the least bit tame, but somehow still managed to be tender.

Sam sighed into it and Felix pulled back, giving him an uneven smile.

“Look at you. You're ador—”

“What are we?”

Felix blinked. “...What?”

“Us,” Sam said. “What was this? All of this?”

Felix sat back and ran his eyes over Sam. “Well, first of all, I'm not about to have this talk while you're covered in cum,” he said.

Sam looked down at himself.

As always, Felix had a point.

“And second, I'm fucking starving. You said there was food, right?”

Sam nodded.

“Then let’s eat.”

 

* * *

 

“Whoa, hey, go back. I like the acting there,” Felix said, waving a hand at the television.

Sam flipped the channel back and looked to Felix for confirmation.

Felix nodded and took a bite of his sandwich.

“You like the acting on a kids’ show?” Sam asked, starting on his own sandwich.

“I know, right?” Felix asked, swallowing his mouthful. “Seriously though, it’s some damn good acting. People always think acting’s all big emotions and whatever, but at its core, it’s really just about making an audience believe something, no matter how weird or silly.”

He pointed to the television again, and over the next ten minutes, occupied himself with pointing out every detail that pushed the performances past ‘patronizing bullshit’ and into the realm of actual acting talent.

Sam was content to eat his sandwich and listen, watching the colorful show’s plot unfold. As far as he could tell, it was something generic about a villain trying to defeat a hero.

There was also a cow costume involved for some reason.

He didn’t question it, nor Felix’s assertion that the acting elevated the show from being a regular children’s program— an assertion which Sam couldn’t help but find somewhat hypocritical after the comments garnered by his own enjoyment of magical girl anime.

Eventually, both their sandwiches and the show were finished, and Felix set his plate aside.

“Alright,” he said, lounging back on the couch. “What’s your newest issue?”

“It’s not new,” Sam said.

Felix shrugged. “Newest revealed, then.”

“What are we?”

Felix crossed his arms. “Do we have to be anything? Can’t we just be?” he asked.

“I’m not going to California with you just because.”

“You’d really come?”

“I said I would,” Sam pointed out. “But I need to know what we are.”

Felix shifted in place, grinding his jaw. “Why?”

Sam frowned. Why _did_ he want to know? It wasn’t that important, was it?

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

“Then what does it matter? It doesn’t.”

“It does.”

Felix huffed. “ _Why?”_ he asked again.

“I don’t know!”

For a while, neither of them spoke, but Sam felt Felix’s eyes on him, watching intensely.

He didn’t meet them.

Maybe it would’ve been better to have never brought the topic up in the first place. Never _invited_ Felix in the first place, never let him—

“What, you wanna be boyfriends and hold hands everywhere?” Felix asked. “Call each other cutesy names and shit?”

“No...”

“Then what?”

“...I just want to know.”

Felix ran a hand through his hair and slumped against the couch. “Why do you have to make things so fucking complicated?” he asked. “I swear, every single time.”

Well, Felix was always right, so...

“But fine, whatever,” Felix said, rolling his eyes, “if it’s _that_ big a deal to you.”

Sam held his breath.

“I, Felix, would very much like you, Sammy, to come to California with me, as my boyfriend. There, happy now?”

“No.”

Felix’s expression turned incredulous. “What? Dude, what more do you want!?”

Sam shook his head. “It’s not that,” he said. “I just... I need time to think about it.”

“No, no, no,” Felix laughed. “What you _need_ is less time to think. Thinking’s how you keep fucking everything up.”

He pulled his legs onto the couch and crawled across it to where Sam sat, casually straddling his lap. “No more thinking,” he said, pressing his lips to Sam’s.

Sam kissed him back for a moment, but then pulled away. “I need to think,” he repeated.

“ _Sammy_...”

“ ** _Let me think!_** _”_

Felix scrambled back and lost his balance, toppling to the floor. There was apprehension all over his face, but Sam couldn’t bring himself to feel guilt at having put it there.

He just needed to _think_.

As soon as he stood, Felix skittered farther away.

“I’m going to my room. Please leave.”

He walked past Felix without awaiting a response.


	38. Season 2, Episode 16

He really _had_ just needed to think.

It wasn’t his fault.

It _wasn’t_.

Was it?

 

* * *

 

If his parents suspected anything, they made no indication of it, which Sam was glad for.

He had enough on his mind as it was.

 

* * *

 

He walked into history and promptly realized he’d have to see Felix.

His boyfriend...

Were they boyfriends anymore?

Were they ever?

Had Sam fucked that up too?

He was on the verge of picking up his bag and skipping class when Felix walked in.

Felix had looked like a mess once before, when they’d had a disagreement of sorts—Sam’s fault again—but that had been subtle. Sam imagined most observers hadn’t spotted anything out of the ordinary, since Felix had presented himself as impeccably as ever.

But now?

No one could mistake Felix for being anything but profoundly unwell.

Dark circles around his eyes, barely styled hair, and what may have been the most casual outfit he’d yet worn. Combined all together, those things wouldn’t normally elicit anything beyond mild concern, but this was _Felix_. It was plain to see that he took pride and care in his appearance, even showing up to their study sessions looking better than he did now.

He stared at Sam.

Sam stared back.

“Excuse me,” someone piped up from beyond the doorway.

Felix had been standing there and blocking it, hadn’t he?

Was he _that_ out of it?

Because of Sam?

An odd sensation of self-satisfaction made an appearance before Sam stamped it down. There was _nothing_ to be satisfied about. He should only feel regret for affecting Felix in such a negative manner.

And yet...

Felix clearly cared a great deal about what had happened between them to be so physically and mentally disheveled.

Class started, and Sam continued watching Felix, who would occasionally look over and meet his eyes before looking away again.

 

* * *

 

He’d barely stepped into biology when Mason headed for him.

To Sam’s relief, he didn’t seem to be angry, but worried.

Though probably still terrible, the upcoming conversation was bound to leave Sam relatively unscathed.

“What happened?” Mason asked him lowly. “And before you ask what I’m talking about, I mean the fact that I walked into lit and saw Felix already sitting there, looking absolutely devastated. What the hell, Sam?”

Sam sidestepped Mason and headed for his desk. “It’s complicated,” he said, setting his bag down.

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Mason said, his tone making it clear that he expected Sam to elaborate.

The bell rang, sparing Sam from any such elaboration.

 

* * *

 

They were nearly to the cafeteria when Sam noticed Felix’s approach.

In contrast to Mason, who tensed, Sam felt remarkably relaxed.

“Felix,” he acknowledged.

“Sammy, I gotta talk to to you,” Felix said in a rush, completely ignoring Mason.

Sam tilted his head.

“Not here,” Felix added, eyes frantically darting around. “C’mon, follow me.”

Mason’s brow furrowed. “Hey, wait—”

Felix kept ignoring him, only looking back to see if Sam was following as he’d asked.

Sam turned to Mason. “It’s fine,” he said.

“You sure?” Mason asked, glancing back and forth between them.

“Yes.”

He didn’t seem convinced, but took a step back and said, “Alright. See you later. Both of you.”

And then it was just the two of them.

“Follow me,” Felix repeated, and Sam did.

Felix led them to the hall outside the library, something Sam could see the irony in even if he was in no state to appreciate it. He walked along until Felix stopped at the nook in the wall, heading into it and plopping himself down on the floor.

It was only then that Sam realized Felix had none of his customary school supplies, and after racking his mind, further realized that he hadn’t had them in history either.

Had Felix forgotten to bring his things?

He really was that out of it.

Because of them.

Because of _Sam_.

After taking a deep breath, Sam carefully moved to sit beside him, leaving the amount of distance their situation warranted. Sam waited for Felix to speak, taking in every last detail of his appearance, from the restless twitches to the persistent grinding of his jaw. His arms wrapped around his knees and his throat shifted, eyes fixed on the well opposite them.

Sam had just begun to take note of how thick and full Felix’s eyelashes were when he tilted his face away and spoke.

“I really do need you, y’know.”

“.....”

“And I... _I’m sorry_.”

Sam blinked.

Had Felix just _apologized?_ Plainly and sincerely?

“... _S- Sam_...”

No, it couldn’t be, could it? It was an act, it had to be. Felix wouldn’t—

He turned back towards Sam and oh, he _would_.

With a sickening twist of his gut, Sam realized that Felix’s previous utterance of those three words had been a performance. Did he really need Sam? It may have been grounded in reality when he’d first said it, but it was still an _act_ , perfectly planned and executed.

But this?

This was _real_.

Sam wasn’t equipped to deal with it. He could barely handle his own breakdowns, let alone someone else’s.

But he couldn’t just _sit there_ while Felix—

While he—

“ _Sam_ ,” he said again, sounding just as destroyed as he had the first time around. “ _Sam, please_.”

“...What do you need?”

Felix opened his mouth, closed it, swallowed, shuffled closer. He held out his arms, but unlike every other time Sam had seen him do so, the action had no flair. It wasn’t for show or demonstration, it was just...

A plea.

Sam held out his own arms and Felix was instantly in them. He pressed himself to Sam and buried his face in his shoulder, small tremors shaking his frame. Sam cautiously brought his arms around him, ready to let go at a moment’s notice, but Felix only burrowed further. He dug his fingers into Sam’s shirt and let out a wet sound.

“ _I. Hate. This_.”

Sam’s confusion grew.

“I s- _said_ I needed you, b- but I _didn’t think_ — I had n- no _idea_ it was this _bad_...”

Sam idly rubbed at Felix’s back.

“I’m not— I’m not supposed to _be like this!”_

Sam continued his impromptu backrub.

“I- I had it _all figured out_. I was g- gonna set out on my own, go to Hollywood, and that w- was that. If I found someone to c- come with me, then g- great. And if I didn’t, whatever. _But!_ Then _you_ sh- show up and f- fuck everything up and n- now I— _I need you!”_

Sam’s arms tightened, as if there was any hope that he could bring Felix even closer than he already was.

“S- Sam Ortez, you have _ruined me_.”

“...I’m sorry.”

“ _No, you’re not_.”

“I am,” Sam assured. “I don’t like seeing you this upset.”

“ _Hmph_.”

They stayed there for what felt like a long time, Felix curled up and Sam holding him close. It was only when the bell rang, once and then a second time, signalling that they were late for their fourth period classes, that either of them made a move to separate.

Felix was even more of a mess, but Sam doubted he was faring much better himself.

“Fuck it, I’m going home,” Felix muttered, wiping at his face.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Can’t focus for shit, and even if I could, I forgot my books, so.”

Sam nodded, preparing to stand up.

“What about you? Gonna head to class like _that?”_

Sam froze. Was he worse off than he’d thought?

“Why not?” he asked.

Felix snorted. “Well, you can’t really walk into class too late without getting questioned to hell and back, so unless you’re fixing to run outta here...” he trailed off with a shrug. “And that’s not even getting into what a mess you are. Either go home or skip class getting yourself cleaned up in the bathroom.”

Sam looked down at himself.

Well, there _was_ a conspicuous wet patch on his shoulder.

“No, not from—” Felix cut himself off before starting again, voice lowered. “Not from _me_. Though I guess that too... But no, I meant you. Your face.” He waggled a finger in its direction. “What do _you_ have to get all emotional about anyway? Not like you’re the one spilling your guts.”

Sam curiously brought a hand to his face and, sure enough, it had the slightly sticky texture that came with drying tear tracks.

He’d had no idea.

Felix watched him, somehow managing to look calculating despite his obvious exhaustion.

Sam raised an eyebrow.

The ghost of a smile tugged at Felix’s lips. “Alright. I guess this is bye, Sammy,” he said, almost sounding like his regular self.

“Yes,” Sam replied, gradually standing up.

He offered a hand down to Felix.

Felix looked at it, then up at Sam.

Sam stayed put.

Slowly, Felix placed one of his hands into it and Sam helped him up.

“...Thanks,” Felix murmured.

Sam didn’t loosen his grip on Felix’s hand.

“Uh, Sammy? I kinda need my hand.”

An impulse struck Sam, and for once, he decided to follow it.

He couldn’t fuck things up anymore than he already had, could he?

Carefully, he turned Felix’s hand over and brought it up, pressing a soft kiss to its palm.

Felix’s eyes widened and his jaw clenched.

Sam let the hand go and Felix pulled it back, crossing his arms and clearing his throat.

“You, uh, don’t really know where that’s been,” he said, casting his gaze off towards the wall.

“I’ve tasted your...” Sam faltered, unsure what term to use. “Either way, I think we’re past that point.”

Felix turned to him again. “Tasted my what?” he asked, grin showing off his teeth. “What have you tasted, Sammy?”

Sam crossed his own arms in consideration. What was the word Felix had used...?

Ah, yes.

“Your cum,” Sam said, enjoying the way Felix’s grin grew even wider.

“Mm, I’ll never get tired of hearing that.”

Sam lightly rolled his eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“You better count on it,” Felix quipped, clicking his tongue.

 

* * *

 

Taking Felix’s advice to heart, Sam made his way to the nearest bathroom, terrified that some member of the school’s faculty would catch him roaming the halls without a pass.

Luckily, he avoided detection, and once his initial freshening up was done, proceeded to spend a very bored hour in the bathroom. There was nothing else to occupy himself with and no respectable place to sit. When the bell rang at last, he practically bolted out and headed for the auditorium, becoming one of the first to arrive.

“Oh, hi!” greeted Ms. Green. “Is Felix absent today? He’s usually here by now.”

Sam nodded.

She snapped her fingers. “Darn. At least we’ve already got everything we need,” she said as she walked off.

Sam took a seat and stretched out his legs, feeling his muscles ache.

His peace only lasted until Mason’s arrival.

“Sam! What happened?”

Sam sighed. “A lot,” he said.

“...Well? Don’t leave me hanging!”

Sam opened his mouth and—

“ _Sam!”_ Megan interrupted. “Where were you!?”

“What?” Mason asked.

“He wasn’t in lit! After what you said about Felix dragging him off, I was sure they’d snuck away somewhere to—”

The bell rang.

 

* * *

 

Drama was spent with a multitude of art supplies, decorating the beginnings of what would eventually become their set pieces.

In hushed tones, Sam went over the basics for Megan and Mason as they sat around a large sheet and steadily painted it.

He recapped what occurred starting from Saturday, when he and Felix had ‘hung out’. He explained that they’d been enjoying each other’s company up until a disagreement had brought their time together to a bitter end.

He went on to talk about how they hadn’t had any further contact over the rest of the weekend, and only saw each other again at that morning’s history class. They didn’t speak then, but when they finally had, everything came spilling out, hence Sam missing literature.

Megan and Mason stared at him.

Sam stared back.

“There’s a lot to unpack there,” Megan said.

Mason nodded along.

It was going to be a long class.

 

* * *

 

**_It’s sad, but sometimes friends fight with each other. What’s the worst fight you’ve ever had with a friend? How did it end?_**

**** **** ******I fucked everything up. We cried.**

 

* * *

 

Felix was back on Tuesday and looking like his regular self.

Relief rushed through Sam, especially at the way Felix shot him a wink across the room.

 

* * *

 

After history, Felix pulled him aside.

“So,” Felix began. “Did you think enough yet? About what I asked?”

Sam doubted that he’d ever think _enough_ , but he had indeed thought.

“I did.”

“And?” Felix asked.

Sam steeled himself and said, “I’d be happy to go to California with you. As your boyfriend.”

Felix grinned wider and wider. “Yeah?” he asked.

Sam nodded.

Felix’s eyes gleamed, and after a quick glance around, he pressed closer and slotted their mouths together. His lips moved gently, lacking the enthusiasm Sam had come to expect, and after lingering for a moment, he broke the kiss and stepped back.

“Good.”

 

* * *

 

“Felix looks a lot better today,” Mason commented.

Megan hummed in agreement. “Guess that little chat with Sam really paid off.”

Sam hid his smile behind his sandwich.

 

* * *

 

Felix spent the entirety of drama critiquing the set work the class had already done, giving pointers on how to continue, and outlining what the finished pieces should look like.

By the time he finished, only half the hour was left, and he proceeded to spend it by slowly going from group to group and offering advice.

He saved Sam’s for last.

“Hey, Sammy. And you two,” he said, glancing towards Megan and Mason as he plopped down beside Sam.

“Hey,” the two of them chorused back.

Though Sam kept his focus on the sheet he was painting, he spared an acknowledging, “Felix.”

“Whataya’ working on?” Felix asked him.

“The background for Romeo and Juliet’s balcony scene,” he replied. “Possibly for other scenes too, if it’s generic enough.”

Felix hummed. “It’s gorgeous.”

Sam said nothing, but a smile tugged at his lips.

“Mace,” Megan asked, “were we ever that bad?”

“I sure hope not,” Mason muttered.

 

* * *

 

The walk to the gym was pleasant, and though there were no kisses to be had, Felix did walk closer to Sam than usual.

 

* * *

 

Things progressed much the same for the rest of the week.

Kisses were sparingly given, and carried more fondness than fervor.

It began to rain sporadically, and when the rain coincided with their walk to the gym, Felix gleefully reminded Sam that he still owed money for losing their bet months ago.

“Fifty bucks, to be precise. You’re not the only one with a good memory here.”

“Then you’ll also remember I never agreed to that bet,” Sam pointed out.

Felix smirked. “Sure, whatever you say, Sammy.”

 

* * *

 

“We’ll be studying in my tent again.”

“With the rain these days?” Felix asked, nevertheless following Sam around the side of the house. “What if it starts raining while we’re in there?”

Sam gave a light shrug. “I find the sound relaxing.”

“Of course you do,” Felix muttered, preemptively pulling his hoodie closed and pushing one sleeved arm through the other.

Sam spared him a glance, charmed by the image of his tightly hooded face, with a pout as its only visible feature.

 

* * *

 

It didn’t take long at all for Felix to curl up against Sam, and his interruptions were few and far between.

Halfway through the session, it began to rain, which was also when Felix zipped the tent shut and threw an arm over Sam’s torso, pressing even closer.

“I’m not a pillow,” Sam spoke up.

“Nah, you’re better,” Felix murmured, accommodating his head on Sam’s shoulder.

Sam held back a smile and adjusted his grip on the textbook. “Just don’t fall asleep,” he said, and resumed from where he left off.

 

* * *

 

“ _’Mnot sleeping_ ,” Felix mumbled.

“Then why are your eyes closed?”

“Relaxing...”

An amused huff left Sam. “Do you normally snore when you relax?”

Felix sat up and leveled Sam with a very squinty unimpressed glare.

“Pay attention,” Sam said. “We’re almost finished.”

 

* * *

 

“That’s it, we’re finished.”

Felix stretched as best as could be expected considering the tent’s limitations and his own curled position. “Though I’d prefer a happier ending to all this, I think I’m too tired for that,” he mumbled. “You, reading a boring-ass textbook, backed by the sound of rain? Fucking recipe for sleep.”

“Using me as your own personal pillow may have had something to do with it too.”

“The hell was I supposed to do? _Not_ cuddle my hard-earned new boyfriend?”

Sam felt himself smile. “Yes, hard-earned,” he said.

There was a pause.

“...Was that a pun?”

 

* * *

 

[INCOMING]  
sami??? how are things going?

[OUTGOING]  
A lot has happened.

[INCOMING]  
tell me!


	39. Season 2, Episode 17

Felix strode back and forth, raking his gaze over the class.

“We've got three weeks left,” he started. “Nearly all the set pieces are done, and I’m gonna need our techies to get to work on finishing those. The rest of you are gonna go change into your outfits and start rehearsal.”

He sat down on the stage’s edge, kicking his feet. “And yes, that means _all_ of you. Even if we only get through the first half of the play, or third, or whatever, you’ve all got at least one or two scenes during that. So go get ready,” he said.

No one moved.

“You’ve got five minutes,” Felix added as he hopped down.

There was a flurry of movement as everyone rushed backstage.

 

* * *

 

“Sure, we barely got through a fourth of it, but that fourth was pretty good,” Felix said, sidestepping a puddle.

Sam nodded.

“It’s fine though,” Felix went on. “That’s what we’ve got three weeks for.”

“When are we performing?” Sam asked.

“Eh, still working it out with Ms. Green and the school. It’s gonna be either Friday or Saturday night.”

“Hmm.”

“Hey, Sammy?”

“Yes?”

Felix spared a look at their vacant, overcast surroundings before moving closer and pecking him on the lips.

“Gotta say, I’m gonna be pretty jealous watching Julie get that kiss, but y’know. It’s just the once, right?”

Sam grimaced.

A laugh escaped Felix. “What, not into girls anymore?”

“It’ll be awkward.”

Felix gave him an exaggerated pout. “Aww, poor thing,” he cooed, then abruptly smiled. “Sounds like you need more practice!”

“I’m sure.”

 

* * *

 

“This is so strange,” Mason said, slowly shaking his head.

“What?” Megan asked. “Sam and Felix?”

“Yeah. Felix, mostly,” Mason replied.

Megan quirked an eyebrow. “What about him?”

“Think about it,” Mason said. “You know how he is. I’d be surprised if he hasn’t been— I don’t know. He’s just not the type.”

“What type?” she asked.

Mason shrugged and looked down at his lunch. “You know... Dating. One person.”

“Sam must be pretty special then,” Megan said. She shot Sam a knowing look and waggled her eyebrows.

Sam squinted at her.

“I guess,” Mason said, still looking down at his lunch. “I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Not that I want it to! But... Yeah.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t. In any case, I’m sure Sam can keep him in line. Right, Sam?”

Sam looked across the cafeteria at Felix regaling his table with who-knew-what-type-of stories.

“...Right.”

 

* * *

 

“We might actually finish tomorrow, which is way better than I was expecting.”

“What would we do the rest of the week?”

“That’s when we bring in all those finished set pieces and figure out how to make them work,” Felix said. “And then we do the whole thing over again.”

“By the end of the week?” Sam asked.

Felix shook his head. “Nah. I’ll just make you do a couple scenes here and there, figure out how they look with the stage all done up. Next week’s when we’ll run through everything from start to finish.”

Sam hummed in understanding.

“Excited?” Felix asked with a grin.

Sam thought about it. In a way, he supposed he was— if not for his own part in it, then at least for everyone else’s. More than anything, he was eager to see the result of their combined efforts, the final show they’d put on. Everyone working together like a well-oiled machine...

There was something very admirable about it all.

“Yes.”

Felix said nothing for a while, scrutinizing Sam as they walked. Once they reached the gym doors, he let out an amused noise and said, “One of these days, I’m gonna get you to give me everything leading up to the one word answers.”

 

* * *

 

As Felix had predicted, they managed to finish off their initial dress rehearsal mere minutes before the bell rang.

Sam felt accomplished, which was odd given that he was only one small part of the class’s larger unit.

Nevertheless, the sense of accomplishment didn’t fade.

 

* * *

 

“We’re making good progress on the play, aren’t we?” Mason asked.

Megan took a bite of her lunch and nodded.

“Is it usually like this?” Sam asked.

Mason’s mouth tilted into an uncertain frown. “I don’t really know, since all I’ve got to compare it to is last year.”

Megan swallowed her bite and piped up, “No, we’re doing pretty good. _Especially_ considering we’re doing it just on school hours.”

“That’s true,” Mason said.

“Throw in the fact that we’ve still got two more rehearsal weeks left...” Megan trailed off, taking another bite of her lunch.

Sam found himself brimming with anticipation at the thought of putting on a good show.

 

* * *

 

Half the class milled about backstage, accommodating everything they needed for easy access when performance time came. The other half was spread across the rest of the auditorium, with some out in the audience seats and some lugging around set pieces.

All of them were hard at work.

“Hey.”

Sam turned to see Felix standing at his side. “Yes?”

“Are you doing anything? Or are you just standing there watching everyone else do all the work?”

“N- No,” Sam said. “I wasn’t—”

Felix laughed. “I’m just messing with you,” he said.

Sam frowned.

“C’mere,” Felix murmured, reaching out for his arm and pulling him away from the doorway leading backstage.

Felix walked further onto the stage itself and ducked behind a side curtain, Sam in tow, then turned around and pressed their fronts together. What followed was a languid kiss, somehow all the more intimate for its secretive nature. Sam gripped Felix’s waist and pulled him closer, unsurprised to feel him grabbing at his rear.

After a few more seconds, they broke apart, and Sam commented, “You’re getting bolder.”

Felix wrapped his arms around Sam’s neck. “I guess so,” he agreed. “What can I say, I’m horny.”

“ _Felix_.”

“Pshhh, it’s not like anyone can hear us.”

“Actually,” came Mason’s voice as he pulled the curtain aside, “anyone _can_.”

“ _Oh, fuck!”_ Felix squeaked, jumping back from Sam.

Mason sighed and jabbed a thumb behind himself. “People have questions about backstage stuff. Go help them out before they come get you themselves,” he warned.

Felix narrowed his eyes in displeasure. “Fucking amateurs,” he muttered, making his way past them both and heading backstage.

Mason turned to look at Sam. “I’m guessing this isn’t exactly new?” he asked.

“‘This’...?”

Mason gestured vaguely in Sam’s direction. “Sneaking around.”

“No.”

“Yeah, thought so. Be careful.”

 

* * *

 

“Do you think you passed the test?”

Felix furrowed his brow. “Yeah, why?”

“You slept through an entire section of the chapter during our study session,” Sam reminded. “You were bordering on the edge of sleep for at least two sections before that.”

“Don’t underestimate me, I’ve been told my listening skills are fantastic,” Felix replied.

Sam raised an eyebrow.

“What, don’t believe me?”

“The evidence seems lacking.”

Rather than the mock offense Sam had been expecting, Felix only smirked.

“You’d be surprised,” was all he said.

 

* * *

 

Sam walked into biology to find the desks pushed together in groups of three, with a covered container at each.

Ah. Dissection day.

He’d had the option to avoid it, but truth be told, his curiosity easily won out over his initial misgivings. From the looks of it, he hadn't been the only one, as most of the class filtered in and moved to stand around the desks.

Only a few students were missing.

Mason wasn't one of those, though his grimace seemed to indicate displeasure at what was to come.

The bell rang and the teacher launched into a brief explanation on what to do, how to do it, and the repercussions of straying from those guidelines. She finished off by declaring that they were free to choose what groups to work in.

Sam immediately headed towards Mason.

 

* * *

 

The third member of their group, whose name Sam didn't want to hazard a guess at remembering, wore a decidedly squeamish expression.

Mason picked up one of the tools and took a breath, positioning it against the bones impeding their progress.

A moment passed.

“I can do it,” Sam offered.

Mason shot him a surprised look. “Sam? You want to?”

Not really.

But their time was limited and only growing more so.

...Plus he was curious.

He held out a hand.

After a short pause, Mason passed him the tool.

Sam looked it over, then swiftly positioned it and squeezed.

A sickening crack ensued, resulting in Mason furrowing his brow and their third group member wincing, but Sam paid them no mind. He reached for another tool and proceeded to follow the rest of the steps the teacher had outlined. More cuts, a few additional bone breaks, pulling and pinning skin...

He wouldn’t call it enjoyable, but there was something interesting about steadily uncovering all those normally hidden organs. Seeing them in textbooks and videos was one thing, but in person? Fascinating.

“...Okay,” Mason spoke up, clearing his throat. “We’re supposed to stick these labels on everything.”

Sam held out a hand again.

Mason placed a label onto it.

Sam glanced at it, then promptly stuck it to the liver, as it called for.

He held out his hand again.

 

* * *

 

“So, uh, that was something.”

Sam raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t take you for a dissection guy,” Mason elaborated.

“What is ‘a dissection guy’?”

Mason shrugged. “I don’t know. You just weren’t squeamish at all. Most people are, at least a little.”

Sam thought about that. He understood why people found the whole thing distasteful, but as far as he could tell, refusing to participate or being squeamish would make no difference in the grand scheme of things. Not for the class and not for the carcass supplied.

The only difference would be to Sam himself, and it wasn’t a difference he cared for.

“It was interesting,” he said.

“Yeah,” Mason replied. “I guess so.”

 

* * *

 

“Make sure you’ve got your props and costumes fixed up and ready to go so that next week’s rehearsal goes as smoothly as possible,” Felix said, eyeing each and every one of them.

He pointed at the set pieces adorning the stage on either side of himself. “These are working pretty well, I think,” he continued. “I wanna see how they look in action though, so I’m gonna have you all do a couple scenes here and there. Go change and then we’ll kick this whole thing off.”

 

* * *

 

Felix and Sam sat together to wait for their interim reports, discussing the day’s rehearsed scenes.

The time passed quickly. Felix talked, Sam listened, and each of them acquired their report.

Then Felix abruptly changed the subject.

“So,” he said, softly clapping his hands together. “According to Mason, you’ve got a stronger stomach than he gave you credit for. Then again, he also said that he shouldn't be surprised, considering who you hang out with.”

Sam gave him a questioning look.

“Yours truly,” Felix said, indicating himself.

“But he also hangs out with you,” Sam objected.

“That’s different. There’s hanging out, and there’s _hanging out_.”

Sam remained just as confused, but Felix went on before he could inquire further.

“Point is, he didn’t really take you for the type to chop up a dead animal without batting an eye. Probably because you’re so reserved with everything else.”

“I didn’t ‘chop it up’.”

“To-may-to, to-mah-to,” Felix said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “What I’m getting at is that you’re a better actor than I thought. But I sorta knew that already.”

“What are you saying?” Sam asked.

“That you’re kind of a freak.”

“...What?”

“Oh, Sammy,” Felix sighed, tsking sympathetically. “I’m not sure you even realize it.”

Sam tilted his head.

Felix leaned closer, lowering his voice and murmuring, “The whole Peeping Tom thing? That’s just the tip of the iceberg, isn't it? You're _weird_. And you hide it really well, being all quiet and awkward. But there’s more to you than that, and yeah, I’ll admit I’m not too sure on what it is. It’s okay though, since I don’t think you are either. We can find out together.”

Sam didn’t know what to make of that. What exactly was Felix implying? That Sam had hidden layers? That there were aspects of himself he’d yet to discover?

.....

It wasn’t _too_ far-fetched.

But the way Felix said it...

“Are you suggesting there’s something wrong with me?”

Felix barked out a laugh. “We’ve all got something wrong with us,” he countered. “No, what I’m saying is that there’s stuff about you that doesn’t fit who you pretend to be. If I had to guess who that was, I’d say... Average? You don’t really wanna stand out, do you?”

“No...”

“Yep,” Felix nodded. “So you pretend to be like everyone else, to blend in, but there’s all these little things that give away your act. Hmm. Were you one of those kids who tortured bugs?”

“No!” Sam answered, horrified at the prospect. “I just liked watching them.”

“Mhmm, you and your watching. Did you have all that nerdy shit, like those super detailed anatomy books?” Felix asked.

“Yes. It’s important to know how our bodies work.”

“I’ll bet,” Felix grinned. “So it’s curiosity, then. Your nerdiness knows no boundaries, including squeamishness. All in the name of science, am I right?”

No, not exactly. Sam absolutely had boundaries, and he was well aware of them. As much as he enjoyed learning new things, that enjoyment ceased as soon as it became at the expense of others.

“...No...”

“C’mon, gimme a clue, at least. Am I on the right track at all?”

“...Somewhat.”

Felix let out a frustrated huff.

“I don’t enjoy suffering,” Sam said.

Felix stared him down, a single quirked eyebrow being the only indicator that he should continue.

So he did.

“If expanding my knowledge means others suffer, I’d prefer not to. But if others have already suffered, and there's something to be learned from it, then I'd rather their suffering was of some benefit.”

Sam had never put that philosophy into words, with no occasion to speak his mind on it. As it was, he wasn’t entirely certain that he’d expressed his ideals correctly, but if anyone would understand what he meant, it’d be...

Felix?

Sure enough, Felix succinctly summed up, “An ethical scientist, basically.”

Sam nodded.

“Well, can’t say I totally agree, but to each his own,” Felix said. “Still, that’s not all you've got going on in there. I swear, one of these days I’m gonna figure out the rest.”

 

* * *

 

Sam was getting ready for bed when he remembered his interim report.

He retrieved it from his bag and made his way out to the living room, hearing his parents softly conversing with each other. As he approached, he managed to catch a quiet ‘Felix’ among the murmured words, but then his mother spotted him.

She gave him a curious smile, prompting his father to look over as well.

“I forgot to show you both,” Sam said, walking closer and holding out his report. “They gave us our grades again.”

“Oh, yes?” his mother asked, taking the report.

Sam waited as his parents’ eyes scanned it.

“They’ve lowered a bit,” his father commented.

“It’s almost the end of the year,” Sam said. “The classes are more difficult.”

His mother reached out and gave his hand a squeeze. “No, your grades are still very good,” she assured him.

“Of course!” Sam’s father added. “I’m not complaining, it’s just something I noticed. But yes, very good grades! I’m proud of you, Sami.”

Sam allowed himself a self-satisfied smile.


	40. Season 2, Episode 18

“Ms. Green and I are pretty sure we’re gonna be performing next Saturday. Would anyone have any problems with that?”

Several heads shook, and when it became clear that no one had any objections, Felix clapped his hands together and smiled out at them all.

“Excellent.”

 

* * *

 

Slowly but surely, the week went by in a whirlwind of classes and rehearsals.

Before Sam’s eyes, the play came together better and better. Scenes flowed more smoothly, the stage complemented the action, and the whole thing steadily became much grander than it had started out as.

It seemed as if all Felix could talk about was the play, and despite missing the conversations concerning them and their relationship, Sam didn’t blame him in the slightest. The play, along with most of what it entailed, was _exciting_.

He still found himself dreading the thought of performing Romeo and Juliet’s death scene, but it was a fleeting worry that often left as fast as it came, at which point he was free to continue enjoying everything else about the production’s final days.

He never would’ve imagined he’d be so pleased to be a part of it.

 

* * *

 

Felix had shut the tent and taken to cuddling Sam early on in their study session, but without the backdrop of rain, managed to stay awake.

As far as Sam was concerned, there were two sides to the situation.

The upside was that he could be certain he wasn’t reading out the chapter in vain.

The downside was that Felix was making a triumphant comeback to his habit of interrupting study sessions with frivolous questions and musings.

Sam indulged them the first few times, but soon found himself growing weary of the constant interludes. To Felix’s credit, each of his chosen topics was more unpredictable than the last, almost spurring Sam into trying to guess what the next one could possibly involve, or the one after that, and so on and so forth.

Finally, Sam shut the textbook with a sigh.

“Oh? Is it sexy time?” Felix asked and pressed closer.

“No. I was wondering about you. Your family.”

“Is that so?” Felix murmured, sounding no less sultry. He pushed the textbook off Sam’s torso and slid onto him, kissing at his neck. “What about them?”

As much as Sam would like to lose himself in Felix’s attentions, his mind was too focused elsewhere to easily redirect itself. “You said you had relatives in California,” he reminded. “Tell me about them.”

“Mm, not much to tell,” Felix breathed against his jaw. “Kinda snobby, kinda rich.” He nipped at one of Sam’s ears and lightly scratched at his sides. “They mostly ignore us,” he added. “Helped my sister out though.”

“You have a sister?” Sam asked in surprise.

Felix chuckled softly and gave him a light kiss. “Yeah, she moved over there a while back. Don’t really talk to her anymore. She’s kind of a bitch.”

Sam frowned. “You call _me_ a bitch,” he said.

“Heh, that I do,” Felix grinned, kissing him again, deeper than before.

Sam returned the kiss to the best of his ability, still processing everything that Felix was telling him. When the kiss broke, he asked, “Then is your sister like me?”

“Oh, fuck no,” Felix said, voice tinged with relief. “She’s a mean bitch. You’re a nice bitch. Most of the time, anyway.”

“There’s a difference?” Sam asked.

“Kinda. Not as much as you might think,” Felix replied and brought his mouth back to Sam’s, gently working his tongue in.

Sam allowed it, opening his mouth around the intrusion. Felix ground their hips together, and Sam’s ensuing gasp was lost between them. Another thrust, another gasp.

Felix pulled away and licked his lips, gazing down at Sam. “Now, then. Wanna keep digging into my family history?” he asked.

“N- No,” Sam said, blinking up at Felix.

But before Felix could kiss him again, Sam interrupted.

“I did have other questions.”

Felix pouted. “Like what?”

“How are we supposed to—”

Felix rubbed their crotches against each other.

“H- How are we s—”

Felix reached a hand down between them.

“How are—”

Felix groped Sam’s erection through his pants.

“... _Felix_...”

“Yes?” Felix innocently asked. “Go on, I’m listening.”

“C- California... Money... How...?”

Felix’s eyes nearly sparkled in mirth. “Fucking adorable,” he muttered, then sat up, balancing himself on Sam’s chest but keeping their erections pressed together. “Now, if I understood that right, you’re asking what our financial situation would be like out west. Yeah?”

Sam shakily nodded.

“You’re lucky I’m starting to get fluent in Sammy Speak,” Felix said with a wink. He thrust against Sam over and over again, starting up a steady rhythm even as he spoke, “I’ve been saving up money for years. Even if we’ve gotta start from scratch, I’ve got enough to rent a decent place for a while. And I’ll be going to all sorts of auditions. We’ll be fine.”

Sam’s hips began meeting Felix’s of their own volition, but he swallowed and forced out yet another question. “How did you save that much...?”

Felix laughed. “I wonder how long you’d be able to keep a conversation going if I was _really_ trying to distract you,” he mused. “But anyway, you don’t think I’m gonna sit on my ass at my family’s store, alone all day and bored out of my mind, and _not_ sneak a little something for my trouble?”

“...Y- You steal?”

“Eh, what my family doesn’t know won’t hurt ’em.”

“Mm...”

“What, that’s it?” Felix asked. “Too horny to go on?”

Sam’s heavy breaths were his only answer.

“Just wait,” Felix said, voice full of promise.

He leaned back, separating their crotches and bringing his hands to Sam’s pants, working them open without hesitation. Sam watched with rapt attention, biting his lip when Felix’s hand closed around him. Thin, cool fingers, coupled with a soft palm. The hand squeezed, lightly fondling him, and Sam’s breaths somehow became even heavier. Felix kept stroking and Sam squirmed, the stimulation quickly becoming overwhelming.

Felix let go of him to undo his own pants. “You really don’t have any tolerance for this sorta thing,” he observed. “But c’mon, you jerk off. How are you this easy to get all worked up?”

It took Sam a few seconds to catch his breath, during which Felix pulled out his own erection and gave it a few strokes.

Sam watched, completely transfixed.

Felix whistled, pulling Sam’s attention back up.

“You’re so hopeless,” Felix said, shaking his head.

Then he pressed forward and their erections brushed one another.

Sam’s hips jerked and Felix flailed a moment, nearly losing his balance.

“Whoa, there!” he said, digging his fingers into Sam’s shirt and holding on. “Glad to know my dick has that kind of effect on you.”

Sam paused.

Felix raised an eyebrow.

“I always thought you’d call it a cock,” Sam said.

“You thought I’d...?” Felix trailed off with confusion on his face, then his features pulled back into one of the most predatory smirks Sam had ever seen. “Why ‘cock’? Do you think that sounds better? Does it make you _want it more?”_

“I...”

Felix lay himself fully atop Sam, trapping their erections together, and teasingly whispered into his ear, “Do you want my cock, Sammy? Is that what you want?”

He thrust again, their erections slid against each other, and Sam let out a broken sigh.

“You like that?” Felix asked, doing it again.

Sam nodded.

Felix smiled and kissed him, giving a brief lick before pulling away. “Alright, Sammy. Just this once, I’ll do all the work, so lie back and enjoy.”

Immediately, Felix renewed his thrusting, grinding and rubbing their erections together. Sam bit his lip and brought his hands to Felix’s sides. They slid down, fingers softly trailing over his ribs and coming to a stop at his waist.

Felix’s free hand settled atop one of Sam’s, giving it a squeeze, and Sam tightened his hold on Felix, fingers pressing into the worn cloth of his hoodie, lightly digging into his skin. Judging by the way Felix sped up his thrusts, Sam had correctly guessed what he wanted.

“Mm, this is nice and all, but you know what would be even nicer?” Felix asked, not waiting for an answer. “Actually fucking. Yeah, yeah, I said I’d wait, but... Oh, I dunno. You tell me. Wouldn’t you like it? Shoving our dicks in each other? Sorry, cocks. Or is mine the only cock? Hey, whataya’ call yours?”

Given that he paused, it was likely Felix genuinely wanted a reply, so it was with great effort that Sam gathered his wits about him and forced out, “...It’s a penis...”

Felix’s answering peal of laughter was loud in the tent’s confined space. “A _penis!?”_ he asked, eyebrows raised disbelievingly.

“That’s what it is...” Sam muttered, looking away.

“God, that’s _so unsexy_. No wonder you’re still a virgin,” Felix sighed, wiping at his eyes with his free hand.

Sam glared up at him.

Felix let out a final snort and composed himself. “Okay, okay. Back to the sexy stuff.”

He brought one of his hands down to grasp their...

Their...

To grasp _them_ , the movement of his fingers fluid and easy.

“Wanna give me a hand?” he asked, amusement apparent.

Sam offered up both.

Felix took one and brought it down to where they were joined, guiding his fingers to wrap around them as well.

“Follow my lead,” Felix said, starting to work his hand.

Sam mirrored it with his own.

Felix gave him an approving nod. “Very good, Sammy.”

Sam faltered for a split-second.

Felix’s eyes narrowed and his hand stopped moving, leading Sam to still his as well.

For a few seconds, nothing happened, and then Felix let go. Sam began to do the same, but Felix shook his head.

“No, keep your hand there.”

Sam did.

“Hmm. Your other hand too,” Felix instructed.

Sam’s other hand wrapped around them both.

Felix kept peering down at him, expression scrutinizing.

With no more orders forthcoming, Sam stayed put.

“...Sammy?”

“Yes?”

Felix’s teeth showed as he asked, “If I said I was gonna fuck you, right here, right now... You’d let me, wouldn’t you?”

Sam swallowed and Felix gripped his chin tight, giving him a slight shake.

“Answer me, Sammy.”

“...Yes...”

One corner of Felix’s mouth pulled up even higher. He released Sam’s chin and moved the hand to stroke his hair.

“You’re being so good for me, following my orders so well,” Felix praised.

Sam’s hips gave a weak thrust.

Felix’s expression turned triumphant. “So that’s it, huh? You like getting bossed around? Told you’re doing everything right?” he asked. “Or maybe you don’t even need the validation...”

Sam gave another thrust and Felix’s eyebrows tilted in disapproval.

“Did I say you could move? _Did I!?”_

“No,” Sam breathed, heart pounding in his chest.

“That’s right, I didn’t. So why the fuck did you?” Felix asked, fingers digging into Sam’s hair and giving it a mild yank. “You don’t get to do _anything_ unless I say so. _Got it?”_

“ _Yes_.”

Silence.

“...Fuck,” Felix sighed, a desperate note to his tone.

He let go of Sam’s hair and pulled off his hoodie, tossing it aside before resuming his thrusts. Sam lay there, hands still encircling them both, feeling Felix sliding back and forth across his fingers. Their combined wetness kept Felix gliding smoothly into the junction of his hands, over and over again.

In, out, in, out.

Felix’s every move had him rubbing against Sam. It was a familiar rhythm, one that Sam instinctively knew, emulated every time he masturbated. Steady, ceaseless.

Commanding.

“ _Felix_...”

“What is it, Sammy?” Felix asked, relentlessly thrusting on.

“I- I need...”

“Whataya’ need?”

“...I don’t know...”

Felix’s amused huff was loud, breath heavy from his maintained effort. “You know what I think you need, Sammy?”

Sam helplessly stared up at him.

“I think you need permission,” Felix murmured, thrusts speeding up. “Isn’t that right? I get to decide when you come. _If_ you come.”

“ _Felix...!”_

“Go on, then. Come for me.”

Sam arched upwards, hands tightening around them both as a low moan left his throat. Felix scrambled to slap a hand over his mouth, but he hardly registered it, lost in the release of what had been building up in him over the past half hour. His eyes fell shut, but Felix’s movements above him made it clear that he’d found his own release as well, burying his face in Sam’s neck.

Together, they jerked in place, bodies tensing and twitching, before finally losing all their strength and lying there completely spent. They took great, heaving breaths, but made no attempt to separate.

“Sammy...”

Sam gave a small grunt.

“You can take your hands off...”

Oh. Right.

Sam weakly pulled his hands out from between their bodies.

Hmm. Messy.

He let them fall to his sides, too tired to think about cleaning.

Felix remained folded atop him, but slowly began nuzzling at his jaw. Sam tilted his head to press against Felix’s and his eyes closed once more.

 

* * *

 

“Sammy.”

“Mm?”

“Don’t fall asleep.”

“Mm.”

“ _Sammy_.”

Sam pried his eyes open and glared at the roof of the tent.

Felix heaved himself up and sleepily blinked down at him.

“That was fun,” Felix commented.

“We need to get cleaned up.”

Felix glanced at their crotches.

“...Yeah.”

After some brief deliberation over who should clean and how, Felix gritted his teeth and grabbed his discarded hoodie. “Can’t believe you’re gonna make me get my favorite hoodie dirty,” he grumbled as he started wiping up their mess.

“Your favorite?” Sam asked. Now that he thought about it, it was the only one he’d ever seen Felix wear. “Don’t you have any others?”

Felix grabbed one of Sam’s wrists and began cleaning off his hand. “Actually, no, which makes this that much worse.”

“Why do you only have one?” Sam asked, intently watching Felix work.

“Why not? It’s nice enough,” Felix said, moving on to Sam’s other hand. “Besides, I can’t exactly save up money if I’m going around buying new hoodies just for the hell of it.”

“You buy a lot of things.”

Felix nodded, folding up the hoodie and shoving it into a corner. “Useful things,” he clarified as he tucked himself back into his pants and slid off of Sam.

“How was buying me a friend journal useful?” Sam asked.

“Wasn’t it?”

“For me. What about for you?”

Felix rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one arm and asking, “What, was it being useful for you not reason enough?”

“Not for _you_ ,” Sam said.

“You know me too well,” Felix smirked. His eyes ran over Sam, stopping at his still open pants. “What about you? Not shy anymore?”

“You’ve already seen me,” Sam said, but nevertheless tucked himself away and set about adjusting his clothes.

Felix’s eyes drifted back to his face. “And that’s reason enough to leave your dick out?”

Sam shrugged as best he could.

“Dude, I can’t _wait_ for us to live together then,” Felix laughed. “But also, this was great. The last time I was that horny in a tent, I got kicked out of camp.”

“You had sex at camp?” Sam asked.

Felix shook his head. “Nah, didn’t get that far.”

“What happened?”

“Well, when one horny teenager and another horny teenager are very, very bored—”

“No,” Sam interrupted. “I mean what happened after.”

“Oh. You know, the usual. Got yelled at, pretty much banned forever. You can imagine,” Felix said, lazily waving a hand.

“And your parents?”

Felix raised an eyebrow. “What about them?”

“How did they react?”

“They were pissed about having to come pick me up, but that was basically it. Now, c’mon, my mouth isn’t gonna kiss itself.”

Sam blinked, but then hoisted himself up and shifted closer to Felix, cupping a hand behind his neck and pulling him in until their mouths met. The position wasn’t ideal, prompting Sam to keep pushing forward, and in turn, Felix leaned further and further back.

Before long, Sam found himself looming over Felix, which wasn’t a position he was accustomed to. Felix was always above him, always looking down. But now...

Sam pulled away and took in the image of Felix flat on his back.

It was remarkably easy to tell when Felix realized their positions had reversed. One moment he was gazing up at Sam, clearly awaiting another kiss, and the next, his eyes refocused and widened.

Neither said anything, but then Felix reached for Sam’s face and pulled him down, kissing him hungrily. The force and energy behind it caught Sam off guard, but he kissed back as enthusiastically as he could, employing a combination of the kisses he’d already learned and the new ones Felix was currently inflicting on him.

Their lips slid against each other, sometimes veering away altogether, but always returning. Felix licked at the inside of Sam’s mouth, tongue flitting around, and Sam worked his lips against Felix’s, sighing with each swipe he felt. They shared the air they breathed, tongue and lips catching on one another’s teeth, hands roaming.

Kiss after kiss, slow and rough, on and on...

Felix abruptly pushed Sam back.

Sam gave him a curious look.

“Sammy, I don’t think we’ve got time for round two,” Felix pointed out.

“...Unfortunate.”

Felix offered him a coy smile.

“Hey, we’ll always have Hollywood.”


	41. Season 2, Episode 19

“Remember, everyone! We're performing _this_ Saturday! This last rehearsal better be exactly what you're gonna be doing then!”

Sure enough, the day’s rehearsal was nearly perfect, the sole exception being Julie’s abrupt coughing fit.

“Sorry! I’m fine, I'm fine. Just got something in my throat.”

To everyone’s credit, the scene progressed seamlessly from that point, and they finished running through the play’s first half with time to spare.

Sam couldn’t help the flutter of his insides as Felix congratulated them all.

 

* * *

 

“Well, this is it,” Felix sighed, glancing sideways at Sam. “Play’s as good as it’s gonna get, and assuming nothing too weird happens, I can pretty much picture how the final show’s gonna go.”

“Is it good?” Sam asked.

“You know what? Yeah. It is.”

 

* * *

 

As they filled out their history worksheets, the play was all that Felix seemed able to discuss.

In his defense, it was all that Sam was able to think about, second only to Felix himself— but that was nothing new.

“Hey, you know what I just realized?” Felix asked, grinning excitedly.

“What?”

“After this, there won't be any more drama classes. Yeah, we’ll still have improv or whatever, but _lessons?”_ He gave a dismissive flick of his wrist. “Those are _done_.”

Hmm. The school year really was drawing to a close.

“Don't you get it, Sammy? I won't be your teacher anymore!”

“Is that so significant?”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Felix said, expression incredulous. “I won't get to pick on you in class! Or feel all perverse over you being my student!”

Sam rolled his eyes.

“Hey, it's a pretty big deal! How am I supposed to adjust?”

“I'm sure you'll manage.”

 

* * *

 

Predictably, Megan and Mason’s lunchtime conversation was about the play.

Sam didn't mind it one bit.

 

* * *

 

The cause of Felix’s disgruntled expression became clear the moment the bell rang and he opened his mouth.

“I have some not-so-great news. On the way here, Julie explained—as much as she could, given the situation—that she’s losing her voice.”

A few gasps rang out, with various people aiming questions at either Julie or Felix.

“Now, now,” Felix said, spreading his hands out in a placating gesture, “how about we let her recover and hope for the best?”

There were no more questions aimed at her. Instead, someone asked, “And if she doesn’t get better?”

“We’ll still perform. Sure, we didn’t officially cast any understudies, but I think we’ve all heard her lines enough that we’ve started memorizing them, yeah?” Felix remarked. “So here’s your chance: Who’s got most of Juliet’s lines memorized and wants a starring role?”

No one raised their hand.

 

* * *

 

“I can’t _believe_ this! What the _actual fuck!?”_

“It is unfortunate, yes.”

“‘Unfortunate’? Yeah, it’s un-fucking-fortunate!” Felix snapped. “Julie better get her fucking act together or this whole thing’s finished!”

 

* * *

 

Felix relentlessly ground his jaw all throughout history, glaring blankly ahead.

 

* * *

 

Like usual, Sam held off on catching up to Megan until the other theatre kids had gone their separate ways.

Unlike usual, Felix took longer to do so than he generally did.

Sam’s habit of avoiding the others kept him at bay until he was hit by the belated realization that it was only Felix, and he approached at last.

To his chagrin, Felix was on the verge of leaving, and only spared him a smirk and a wink before doing exactly that.

Megan smiled. “You two are doing pretty well, huh?” she asked Sam.

“I suppose so,” he said, staring after Felix.

 

* * *

 

Felix’s announcement that Julie showed no signs of getting better was met with grim silence, but even if no one stepped up to replace her, they were to keep preparing for the performance.

“There's still hope,” Felix said. “A couple days can do a lot for a sore throat, so let's stay on track.”

 

* * *

 

“What if her voice doesn't improve?” Sam asked.

Felix’s brow was furrowed, as it had been for much of the day. He gave a weak shrug and said, “We’ll just have to give it our all.”

“Her too?”

“No way,” Felix grumbled. “I'm not putting a wheezing mess up on that stage. How would that make me look as a director?”

Sam tilted his head. “Then what about her scenes?”

“We’ll figure something out.”

 

* * *

 

Sam thought about telling his parents what was happening with the play, of the jeopardy his own scenes were in.

He desisted.

To speak about it would be to further acknowledge it, and his insides were already a bundle of nerves as it was.

 

* * *

 

When Julie caught him looking her way in algebra, he gestured to his throat.

She shook her head with a frown and he felt a weight settle in his gut.

 

* * *

 

Felix had progressed from looking deeply considering to completely antsy.

Drumming fingers, jiggling legs, grinding jaw... Sam would be surprised if he'd absorbed a single word of the day's history lesson.

As soon as the bell rang, Sam headed towards him.

“Are you alright?”

Felix blinked. “Yeah, why?”

“You seem distracted.”

“Well, there's a lot going on,” Felix quipped, setting off at a brisk trot.

Sam kept pace with him, curiously taking note of the determination he was exuding. His strides were long and sure, and he clutched his things close, looking for all the world as if he was setting out on a mission.

He eventually veered towards the lockers, briskly thumbing one open and dumping a bag into it before closing it back up. Turning to Sam, he said, “Look, I've been thinking about Julie's scenes, and by extension, yours. There's _no way_ we can get away with cutting them. It just wouldn't work.”

“So...?”

Felix began heading back in the direction they'd come from, talking as he went. “So we can't cut them. But without a Juliet, those scenes are fucking gutted. A couple of them can be adapted so they're just you, but...”

He huffed and came to a stop, staring Sam down.

“I don't know. We’ll see.”

 

* * *

 

Felix _not_ knowing something?

 

* * *

 

Megan and Mason were both equally somber.

Sam couldn't blame them.

“I feel bad for Felix though,” Megan commented. “He _is_ the director, and yeah, he's been teaching us the whole year, but this was his chance to really show off what he's done.”

Mason hummed his assent.

“He did say he was thinking of ways to work around it, but... I dunno. Sam, has he told you anything?” Megan asked.

“Only that he doesn’t know.”

The three of them frowned down at their lunches.

 

* * *

 

“So,” Felix addressed Julie. “How's the voice?”

She emitted a faint rasp.

Felix tsked.

“Thought so.”

 

* * *

 

In the ongoing attempt to let Julie recover her voice, Felix had been skipping over Romeo and Juliet’s scenes the entire week, so it came as no surprise when he finally asked Sam to run through all of them in one go, some more than once.

Without Julie to say her lines, the dialogue was stilted and awkward, but like Felix had mentioned, it was easy to see how parts of it could be reworked.

Felix intently watched him all the while, only speaking when indicating what scene to do next.

As the hour drew to a close, Felix announced that they'd be meeting in the classroom tomorrow, both during their regular class time and after school.

“Just for half an hour or so, to work out any last details.”

 

* * *

 

Their walk to the gym was silent.

 

* * *

 

Sam knew he should tell his parents.

They were so excited to see him perform again, especially in such a pivotal role, and he'd already told them the show was on Saturday.

He couldn't bring himself to.

 

* * *

 

When Felix didn't show up to history, Sam’s nerves increased tenfold.

He rushed through the test, barely processing the questions before answering them, continually distracted by Felix’s empty seat.

Felix wouldn’t willingly skip school the day before a play, would he?

 

* * *

 

Mason asked him if he knew where Felix was, to no avail.

Sam didn’t pay attention to a word of the teacher’s lecture.

 

* * *

 

“Sam, where the fuck is Felix!?” Megan greeted him at lunch.

He didn’t manage to eat anything.

 

* * *

 

Sam walked into drama and nearly collapsed into his seat.

As the minutes passed, confused murmuring built up. People asking where Felix was, others saying he was absent.

The bell rang and Ms. Green moved to the front of the room, but the questions and whispers kept coming.

“Felix isn't absent,” she spoke up.

Instantly, silence.

She smiled and gestured towards the supply closet at the back of the room, with its slightly open door.

“That’s right!” Felix’s voice emanated from it, dissolving every last ounce of tension in Sam’s body. “And that’s not all! Now presenting: Our new Juliet!”

Everyone held their collective breath as the door creaked open and—

_Oh_.

Sam felt immensely relieved that figuring out his exact sexuality had never been a priority, as any and all progress he might’ve made up until that point would’ve been immediately unraveled.

He took in all the details he could, from the shoulder-length hair to the long-sleeved dress to the smooth legs in heels, all the way back up to the makeup-decorated face.

One exaggerated wink later, Felix strutted to the front of the room amidst various gasps and questions, answering none but very clearly relishing the attention. Ms. Green returned to her usual seat, and once Felix stood before them all, he struck a simple pose and raised one perfectly styled eyebrow.

“Like what you see?”

“My dress...” Megan breathed, jaw slack and eyes wide.

“I’ve got the waistline for it, don’t I?” Felix asked, running through a variety of poses. “Didn’t even have to dig up a corset. Plus, these helped.” He casually patted his newly acquired breasts and added, “The rest is all just heels and sticking your ass out, pretty easy stuff.”

“ _Easy?”_ asked a third-year. “I can barely manage some eyeliner and lipstick half the time, so how did _you_ do _that?”_

A newbie agreed, “You _had_ to have been practicing.”

“Well, yeah,” Felix said, toying with his wig’s hair. “Lots of trial and error, but at the end of the day, all you’ve gotta do is figure out the technique.”

“Since when have you been working on this?” Megan breathlessly asked.

“Since I lip-synched ‘Popular’ last year,” Felix replied. “I figured, why stop there? Go all in, the sky’s the limit. And yes, I do mean _all in_.” He waved a hand over his crotch and confided, “You’ll find nothing out and about down here.”

“How do you even know how to do that!?” a second-year questioned.

Felix drew a finger to his lips. “A lady never kisses and tells,” he teased. “Anyway, what kind of actor would I even be if I couldn’t pull off this kinda thing?”

“Okay, fine, but what about your voice?” a second-year brought up. “The spell’s gonna break the second Juliet has to talk.”

“ _Don’t be so quick to judge_ ,” Felix said, voice suddenly feminine and wholly removed from his own.

In the ensuing silence, it was incredibly easy to hear Julie’s rasp of, “...What the fuck.”

Felix smirked. “ _Told you so_ ,” he said, using the voice again.

It was so unlike how he usually sounded, so perfectly something else, that Sam couldn’t help but find it highly uncanny and disconcerting.

“ _O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?”_ Felix recited, melodramatically placing the back of a hand to his forehead. He held the pose for a second, then abruptly brought his hands to his hips and asked in his regular voice, “Not bad, huh?”

The room exploded with questions on all sides as Felix simply stood there, grin radiating smugness.

“And you think it’ll work? That everyone’s just gonna believe you’re really Juliet?”

“Sure it will!” Felix cheerfully replied. “The only reason you all know it’s me is because, well, you know me. But nobody in that audience’s gonna know. I didn’t really perform the last time we invited people, and unless you walk out of here blabbing about this, they won’t have any idea.”

The questions didn't stop, only growing louder and more plentiful. Questions about the play, questions about the outfit, questions about Felix.

“It won't work,” someone said.

The room quieted down as Felix’s head swiveled towards the voice’s owner.

“Oh?” Felix asked. “And why ever not?”

A newbie guy lounged back in his seat and crossed his arms, looking entirely too disparaging for Sam’s taste.

“Well, you're not a _girl_ ,” he stated.

“Thank you for noticing,” Felix replied.

The newbie guy rolled his eyes. “Say the audience believes it. Then what? You think Sam’s just gonna be alright with kissing you?” he asked.

The whispers began anew.

Felix raised his chin and said, “Fuck yeah, Sam’s a professional. Besides, don’t lie, I look hot. You’d kiss me too if you could.”

He glanced at Ms. Green and gave her a mildly repentant look for cursing, but she simply shrugged and waved a hand.

The newbie guy turned to address Sam directly. “Whataya’ think?” he asked. “Hot or not?”

“...I have no problem with it,” Sam said, not entirely certain that he wasn’t just in the middle of a particularly vivid dream.

“And Romeo himself has spoken!” Felix gleefully announced, taking on a victorious stance. “I think that settles it. No offense to Julie, but I’m the Juliet we need.”

 

* * *

 

The hour was spent on Juliet’s scenes, which often doubled as Romeo’s scenes, all now featuring Felix.

To everyone's surprise, Sam included, Felix knew every single one of Juliet’s lines. His performance of them even matched Julie's in many ways, though differed in others.

Like always, their scripted kisses were skipped, for all the good that it did.

Once the scenes were done with, Felix asked the newbie guy, “Still think it won't work?”

“Hmph. I'm not stopping you.”

“Damn right you're not.”

 

* * *

 

The bell rang and Felix reminded them all to return after school for a short meeting.

Most people began leaving the room, but everyone else, along with Ms. Green, approached Felix instead, apparently fit to burst with questions and compliments. He answered a few of the former and accepted all of the latter, but ultimately, Ms. Green’s request was what mattered most.

“There were a couple things you needed to take to the auditorium,” she reminded. “Are you still gonna be able to?”

Felix shrugged. “Sure. I’ll just wait ’til everyone’s in class and go. Worst comes to worst, some kids on the way to the bathroom see me. Probably wouldn’t even know who I am. No big deal.”

Ms. Green nodded and turned back to her desk as the others started to leave.

Sam cautiously approached.

“So!” Felix said, spotting him and striking another pose. “Whataya’ think?”

Sam looked him over, finding him every bit the picture of style and attractiveness. His pointed features were well framed by the wig’s hair, and the dress’s short skirt showcased his long legs to their fullest.

“You look good.”

Felix’s eyes shone but he kept his answering smirk under control. “Of course I do. I wasn’t gonna go through the hassle of shaving my legs if I didn’t think I’d look good at the end of it,” he said, sticking out one such leg. “It’s awful, I’ve got no idea how chicks do it all the time.”

“Peer pressure,” Ms. Green replied as she came back, handing Felix a key and a container filled with papers. “There’s our audience pamphlets. If you can set up the table for them, that’d be great. And you said you wanted to do a final check on props and costumes?”

“Yep, especially the Juliet stuff,” Felix said, adjusting his grip on the container.

Ms. Green nodded. “Right, of course. Some of it might be a little loose on you, but that should be easy enough to fix.”

“You’re going to the auditorium?” Sam asked.

Felix gave an agreeing hum, still preoccupied with the container.

“I’ll help you.”

Felix raised an eyebrow. “What, and skip P. E.?”

Sam nodded just as the bell rang.

“...Alright,” Felix said, holding out the container.

Sam took it, and after a quick farewell to Ms. Green, the two of them set out towards the auditorium.

“Mm, this is exciting,” Felix cheerily said, practically skipping along.

How he could do that in heels, Sam was deathly curious to know.

“Don’t you think so?” Felix asked, tossing and catching the auditorium key.

“You’re energetic,” Sam observed.

Felix furrowed his brow. “I am, aren’t I? I guess it’s the outfit. Like putting on a Halloween costume and feeling rowdy, but up to eleven,” he said, darting forward to open the building’s door.

Sam stepped through and Felix skipped ahead, twirling back to look at him.

“Can you blame me though? I’m _hot_. I’d totally fuck me.”

Sam had a split-second vision of introducing Felix— _Felicia?_ —as his girlfriend before brushing it away. Even so, he got the distinct feeling that he now possessed some idea of what Felix’s sister looked like.

“How long have you been planning this?” he asked.

“Like I said in drama, since last year,” Felix answered, toying with his wig again. “Everyone wanted ‘Popular’ for their lip-sync, and I wanted in on that. Obviously, not _everyone_ could do it, but me being a guy practically guaranteed that I’d at least be one of the people who got it. And sure enough, it ended up being me and two other girls. One was Megan, actually.”

He laughed and went on, “So there we are. It’s the first day of presentations, and the fourth-year girl does her version. It goes great. More presentations go by, then Megan gets up. Does it nearly as good as the other girl, which is saying a lot, since she was only a second-year. Anyway, more presentations, class is about to end, and then I volunteer.”

Sam watched his painted lips stretch wide in nostalgic glee.

“The look on everyone’s faces as soon as they hear that first ‘Elphie’?” Felix closed his eyes and gave a low sigh. “Fucking _priceless_. And of course I kill it. Problem is, me killing it doesn’t really have the impact it should because everyone’s too busy giggling over the fact that I’m a guy doing a girl song. So that’s when I decided I’d find a way around that,” he finished.

They came to a stop at the auditorium doors and Sam said, “I meant how long have you been planning _this_ , to replace Julie.”

“...Oh.”

Felix unlocked the auditorium and they stepped inside.

“Well, I got the idea on Wednesday, so I asked Megan if I could borrow a dress,” Felix spoke, heading down an aisle. “Still wasn’t sure if it would work, but hey, I’d been practicing for a little over a year. How bad could it be?”

“Not bad at all,” Sam answered.

Felix pursed his lips. “Aww, that’s sweet of you,” he said, then pointed to the front row of seats. “You can go ahead and set that down there, I’ve gotta go backstage and try on the Juliet stuff. C’mon.”

 

* * *

 

Felix slipped the Juliet dress on over his own, sliding into it easily, then beckoned Sam onstage.

They ran through Juliet’s most active scenes, gauging how well Felix could perform in the dress’s billowing length. Eventually, he decided he’d only pin it in a few places, and the two of them returned backstage, where he slid it off and did exactly that.

Sam watched in fascination as Felix clambered up onto one of the makeup counters and reached for a nondescript shelf, pulling down a small case of sewing supplies.

“You can sew?” Sam asked, offering a hand for Felix to hold onto as he clambered down.

“Eh, not exactly,” Felix said, grabbing a few things from the case. “You’ve gotta know some basic shit for costumes though. Something rips a couple minutes to curtain? You better be able to whip up a quick fix.”

Sam said nothing, eyes fixed on Felix as he worked. He’d periodically lift the dress up, scrutinizing its reflection in the mirror, then set it back on the counter and continue his work. It was only several minutes later that he seemed satisfied enough to try it on again.

Twisting and turning, he glanced around at the room’s mirrors as well as down at himself. There was a marked difference, mainly around his waist. “See? Much better,” he said, then pulled it off and hung it up with the other costumes.

He clambered up on the counter to return the sewing supplies, and Sam helped him down once more, clutching his hand tight.

Safely back on the ground, Felix didn’t let go of Sam’s hand, and instead used it to pull him along. He led them past the counters and right up to the wall, then turned around and leaned against it, still holding onto Sam’s hand.

“You know I’m pretty dedicated to my roles, right?” he asked, fondling it in both of his.

“Yes...”

Felix pulled Sam’s hand to his waist and held it there. “Wanna hear a secret?”

Sam nodded.

Felix wrapped his fingers behind Sam’s neck and brought him close, murmuring into his ear, “I’m wearing panties. They’re lilac, and they barely fit me. Well, when everything’s loose down there. But now? They’re _just right_. Would you like to see?”

Sam brought his other hand to Felix’s waist, breathing shakily.

“Hmm? Is that something you’d like?”

“...Yes...”

Felix flipped them around, crowding Sam against the wall and kissing him, mouth open and tongue prying. Sam responded in kind, moving his lips against Felix’s and tasting a hint of lipstick, strange and unnatural.

“Fuck, I just had a great idea,” Felix mumbled, digging his fingers into Sam’s hair and kissing him again, biting at his lips.

Sam made a questioning noise and began trailing his hands down Felix’s sides, past his hips, all the way to the hem of his dress. He toyed with it, occasionally brushing against the bare skin of Felix’s thighs.

“Sammy... How would you like it if I bent you over and fucked you right here and now, just like this?” Felix asked. “Maybe on the counters, in front of the mirrors. I know how much you like to watch, after all.”

Sam swallowed and felt his knees grow weak as Felix pressed him back into the wall. “I...”

“Or maybe,” Felix continued, voice growing husky, “we could go onstage, close those curtains, and see what happens. You pulling my panties off, me riding you... Wouldn’t that be fun, Sammy?”

“Felix—”

“You are _not_ fucking in my dress!”

“ _FUCK!”_ Felix shrieked, shooting away from Sam.

Megan stood around the corner, glaring daggers. “It’s bad enough you didn’t tell me what you needed one of my dresses for, but now you wanna jizz all over it too!?”

Felix said nothing, apparently still recovering from the shock of her intrusion.

“And you!” she said, turning to Sam.

He was distinctly aware of the erection currently straining against the confines of his pants, and judging by Megan’s quick downward glance, she was distinctly aware of it as well.

“You’ve got lipstick all over your face. Both of you,” was all she said. “Ms. Green asked me to come get you for the meeting, so clean up.”

She turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Sam and Felix to recover in mortified silence.

 

* * *

 

It was settled; they would perform the next evening.

Anticipation was thick in the air.

 

* * *

 

“So everything’s ready for the show tomorrow?” Sam’s mother asked.

Ah, right.

Sam set his fork down and took a deep breath.

 

* * *

 

There was a soft knock at his door, accompanied by an equally soft “Sami?”

“Yes?”

Sam’s mother carefully stepped into his darkened room.

He peered up at her as she neared his bed and sat on the edge of it.

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” she asked.

“I think so.”

She hummed and nodded. “And... You still have to kiss Juliet?”

“Yes.”

“So Felix?”

He nodded.

“It doesn’t bother you?”

“No.”

“And Felix?”

“Not him either.”

His mother was silent a moment, but despite the darkness, the smile she wore was evident when she said, “How interesting!”

Sam raised an eyebrow before remembering that she was unlikely to see it. “How?” he asked.

She gave a brief shrug. “He’s your friend, no? One generally doesn’t kiss friends, and less so on a stage.”

Sam gave an answering shrug of his own and she playfully reached out to shake him.

“Well, I’m sure it’ll turn out great. Alright, I’ll leave you so that you sleep,” she said, giving him a kiss on the forehead and shuffling away. “Good night!”

 

* * *

 

[INCOMING]  
you ready romeo?

[OUTGOING]  
Yes, Juliet.

 

* * *

 

“Sam!” Megan called, running up the aisle to meet him.

“Hi,” he replied.

“Mr. and Mrs. Ortez, hi!” she added, sparing them a smile.

They gave her greetings of their own and she grabbed Sam’s hand.

“C’mon, let’s go!”

He barely managed to give his parents a goodbye over his shoulder as Megan dragged him backstage.

 

* * *

 

“Sammy!” Felix greeted, already dressed in Juliet’s outfit. “Get ready, there’s never as much time as you think there is.”

 

* * *

 

Mason pulled Sam to the edge of the stage and held the curtain open a fraction of an inch, beckoning him to look through.

It was a few seconds before he spotted his parents in the gathered crowd.

“...What time is it?” he asked.

“Just minutes to curtain,” Mason said with a reassuring smile.

 

* * *

 

Whether it was the makeup, the lights, the distance to the stage, or the fact that Felix was just _that skilled_ , no one in the audience appeared to have any sort of unusual reaction to Juliet’s first scene.

Sam had no doubt that some people _knew_. His parents, others’ parents, and probably many others.

But there were almost certainly even more people who didn’t know, who took Juliet at face value and judged her only as the character she was, on the merits of her performance.

It was exactly what Felix had wanted all that time ago.

Sam was proud of him.

 

* * *

 

It was time for the final scene.

Sam and Felix stood in the stage’s wings, waiting for their cue, and Sam’s anticipation was at an all-time high.

“ _Hey_ ,” Felix whispered, turning to him.

Sam made a soft noise in response.

“ _We’re gonna be great_ ,” Felix murmured before pressing their lips together.

The kiss only lasted a moment, but it was all the encouragement Sam needed.

 

* * *

 

Romeo kissed Juliet.

 

* * *

 

Juliet kissed Romeo just a few seconds too long.

 

* * *

 

The end of the play was followed by a flurry of applause, congratulations, and enthusiastic hugs from his parents.

Several minutes later, things showed no sign of slowing down, and his parents were speaking with Ms. Green when he felt a poke against his arm.

“Hey,” Julie said, voice faint but audible. “You were really great.”

“Thank you,” Sam replied.

She smiled down at the ground, and Sam was struck with a jolt of compassion.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Her brow furrowed.

Sam went on, “You weren’t able to perform. We practiced for months. It was a primary role.”

She sighed. “Yeah... When you put it like that, I guess you’re right.”

Sam tilted his head.

“I’m glad I had such a great understudy though,” Julie said. “Don’t you think?”

“Yes.”

Julie silently watched him.

“Sam... You and Felix...”

He tensed.

Julie stared at him, biting her lip, and he stared back.

“...Never mind,” she said and smiled again, this time directly at him. “See you around.”

 

* * *

 

Sam had returned his attention to his parents’ conversation with Ms. Green, occasionally even weighing in with a comment, but mostly standing by and listening.

“ _Pssst_ , Sammy!”

He looked around until he spotted Felix, still clad in a dress and wig, standing halfway down the row of seats and beckoning him over.

Quickly and quietly excusing himself from the conversation, Sam went.

When he was close enough, Felix grabbed his wrist and led him farther away, until it was doubtful anyone would overhear them.

Felix motioned his head towards Sam’s parents. “Ask them if you can come over,” he said.

“What?”

“Yeah, ask them. I’ve got the house to myself all night. First few hours of morning too.”

Sam glanced back at them. “They won’t like that.”

Felix crossed his arms and asked, “What, me having the house to myself? Pshhh, just lie. Won’t make any difference.”

Sam said nothing.

“ _Come on_ ,” Felix insisted. “Don’t tell me you’re _not_ dying to get some action.”

Sam frantically looked around but no one seemed to have heard the comment.

Felix continued staring at him.

“...Fine.”

Felix’s vibrantly red lips pulled back in an extremely self-satisfied smile. “Good boy, Sammy,” he said with a wink.

Sam turned on his heel and hurriedly walked away before the words could fully affect him. He headed straight for his parents and arrived just as Ms. Green was saying her goodbyes to them.

“Oh, and you too, Sam!” she said, waving at him as she walked away. “You were really great!”

“Thank you,” he called after her, then turned to his parents.

“How friendly, I liked her,” Sam’s mother said.

His father nodded. “Yes, she seems to be a good teacher.”

“Substitute,” Sam corrected.

His mother chuckled. “Ah, yes. _Felix_ is the teacher, not her. You mustn’t confuse them,” she said to his father, then turned back to Sam with a smile.

“.....”

She tilted her head.

Sam swallowed and took a deep breath. “Mamá? Can I stay the night at Felix’s house?”

His mother’s eyes widened and her smile faded. She looked off in Felix’s direction and back to Sam. “...Sami, are you sure?” she asked.

He nodded.

She bit at her bottom lip, glancing towards Felix again before returning her gaze to Sam. For several seconds, she said nothing, but took a step closer and held his hands in hers, lightly squeezing them.

He looked down at their joined hands, then up at her.

“...Call us when you arrive,” she said. “And also if at any moment you want us to go get you, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, watching as his father solemnly nodded along.

His attention returned to his mother when she pulled him into a hug. He hugged her back and she whispered in his ear, “And please, both of you be careful.”

He froze.

She laughed softly and rubbed his back. “I _know_ ,” she said. “We can discuss it later.”

Sam was then released, and he glanced wildly between his parents. “H- How...?”

“How do we know?” his mother asked. “We’re your parents, we notice these things.”

“Even me!” his father piped up.

Sam let out a slightly hysterical breath.

His mother stepped towards his father. “Then alright,” she said with a nod. “Don’t forget to call us.”

“I’ll remember,” Sam said. “Thank you.”

With one last wave back at them, he returned to Felix’s side and found him looking entirely too pleased.

“That was quite a show,” he remarked.

Sam raised an eyebrow.

Felix made a vaguely indicative hand motion. “You and your parents getting all touchy-feely,” he elaborated. “What, did they catch on to the fact that their baby's finally about to grow up?”

“Something like that.”

Felix's eyes widened. “Whoa, wait, what!? I was _joking!”_

Sam only offered a shrug.

Evidently recognizing that it was all the consolation he'd be getting, Felix pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long-suffering sigh. “Alright, _fine_. Now let’s get outta here,” he said, grabbing Sam’s arm and striding towards the exit.

 

* * *

 

“Your house is nice.”

It was the first either of them had spoken for some time.

Felix parked his car. “It is, isn’t it? Gift from our relatives so they wouldn’t feel as bad for ignoring us all the time. Not that I blame ’em.”

They climbed out of the car and Sam asked, “Why not?”

Felix shrugged. “I’d ignore us too. Why do you think my sister moved out as soon as she could?” he asked, unlocking the front door.

The house’s interior was just as nice as its exterior, the sort of nice that discouraged visitors from breathing too loudly or failing to maintain a sense of propriety at all times. A couch filled with perfectly placed cushions, a table which looked too fragile to set anything more than a newspaper on...

“Fucking snobby as shit, right?”

“...It’s clean,” Sam offered.

“Sure is. I hate it,” Felix replied as he began making his way up the stairs.

Sam followed, head swiveling around and taking in all the details he could.

“And here we are,” Felix announced, ushering him into a large bedroom.

It was surprisingly similar to the rest of the house. Plain, undecorated walls and well-maintained carpeting.

“It’s _clean_.”

Felix laughed, leaving the door wide open. “Is that so surprising?” he asked.

“You said you hated it,” Sam pointed out.

“Well, if you’re that curious...” Felix trailed off, walking over to another door and opening it with a flourish. “Here’s where I keep my mess.”

Ah.

“Plus, most of the furniture’s covering up any major stains,” Felix added, shutting his closet door.

Sam glanced around. “There’s major stains?”

Felix’s eyebrows went up and he let out a low whistle. “That’s a story for some other time,” he said. “Anyway, I’m gonna take a shower. Feel free to just relax on the bed or whatever, shouldn’t take more than a few minutes.”

He opened a third door, revealing his very own bathroom, and stepped in with a wink.

Sam remained standing in place.

It was only when the sound of the shower started that he blinked himself back to full awareness.

There was something he’d needed to do, wasn’t there?

He sat on the bed and stared blankly at the floor, at the walls, at the open door and the staircase beyond.

.....

_His parents_.

He hurriedly took out his phone and called them.

After a single ring, his mother answered, and he launched into an explanation that yes, Felix’s house was perfectly lovely, no, his family hadn’t raised any issues with Sam staying, and yes, everything so far was fine.

“And Felix?” his mother asked. “Is he there?”

“He’s showering. He has his own bathroom.”

“Oh, really? That’s great!”

“Yes, it must be convenient,” Sam said.

“Mm. Well, I’ll leave you, then. Remember, call us if there’s any problem, no matter the time.”

“Yes.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

 

* * *

 

Felix emerged from the bathroom looking like his usual self, with nothing but a towel draped around his hips.

“Looking kinda stiff there, Sammy, and not in the fun way. Why don’t you take a shower and loosen up?”

“I don’t have a spare set of clothes.”

Felix rolled his eyes. “Fine. It’ll be more fun to rip ’em off you anyway,” he said, turning back to his closet.

After a few minutes of digging around, he strolled up to Sam and held out a bundle of clothes.

“These _should_ fit you. Close enough, at least.”

“Thank you,” Sam said, accepting the bundle.

One baggy t-shirt, one set of sweatpants...

And that was it.

Sam supposed it was all he’d need.

Felix was always right.

 

* * *

 

The t-shirt was tight and the sweatpants were short.

They’d have to do.

 

* * *

 

“Look at you!” Felix cheered.

Sam looked down at himself.

Felix smacked the bed insistently. “Now get over here.”

Sam went, silently taking note of the room’s still open door. He sat on the bed, and once he was flat on his back, head propped up on a pillow, Felix deftly hopped up and straddled his middle.

“So I was thinking,” started Felix, toying with the hem of his towel. “I’m sure you wanna shove your dick in me, and yeah, we’ll eventually get to that.”

Sam blinked at the reassurance. Shoving his dick in Felix? No, he didn’t want to do that. He was curious, certainly, but he didn’t actively crave it, in much the same way that he didn’t actively crave what he suspected Felix was about to suggest, but nevertheless found himself wildly anticipating it.

“Then...?”

Felix grinned wickedly. “I’ve got something else in mind for now,” he said, smoothing a hand over Sam’s front. “Do you trust me?”

“...Yes...”

“Good,” Felix said, leaning down to bring their mouths together.

One kiss after another ensued, with Sam slowly bringing his hands to settle on Felix’s hips, thumbs gently dragging back and forth. By contrast, Felix’s hands raked up Sam’s torso, hiking his t-shirt up as they went.

More kisses— wet, hungry ones. Ones that Sam now had enough experience with to fully reciprocate, licking at Felix’s mouth and intermittently biting at his lips. Their combined enthusiasm only strengthened the longer they kept on.

There was an amused exhale from Felix as he sat up. “Lift your arms,” he said, giving Sam’s t-shirt a tug.

Sam did, and Felix pulled his shirt off.

“Much better,” he said, flinging it halfway across the room before ducking back down to nip and lick at Sam’s neck.

“Felix...”

Felix said nothing, only continuing his ministrations. His hands groped and grabbed all they could, and his legs readjusted themselves, gradually slotting between Sam’s and bringing their hips together, thin layers of fabric the only thing in their way.

Sam’s hands found their way to Felix’s waist and remained there, anchoring him to the moment. He leaned into Felix’s touches, into his kisses, and when Felix thrust his hips against him, Sam answered in kind. Before long, they were moving in tandem, breaths heavier and more frantic.

Felix lowered himself until he was completely resting on Sam, hands trailing down his body. Sam latched onto Felix’s neck, lightly suckling at a spot, and Felix slid his hands beneath Sam’s sweatpants, squeezing and fondling his rear.

“Mm, I hope you’re ready,” Felix said, pulling down the sweatpants by a couple inches, just enough to leave Sam partially uncovered against the cloth of Felix’s towel. “Do you know how this works at all?”

Sam had _some_ notion of it. The basics. Probably.

It was hard to tell fact from fiction when it came to teenagers’ gossip, but he imagined he had the general idea.

Felix seemed to take his silence as an invitation to keep talking.

“Here’s how it’s gonna go,” he murmured into Sam’s ear. “First”—his thumbs rubbed over Sam’s hips, where his thighs began—“you spread your legs. Next”—his hands worked down Sam’s thighs, pulling off the sweatpants as they went—“I get my dick all wet and ready to fuck you. And then”—he yanked the sweatpants down to Sam’s knees—“I fuck you. Got it?”

Sam’s pulse thundered in his ears and it was all he could do to force out a noise of affirmation.

He was promptly attacked by Felix’s mouth again, the kiss rough and desperate. As they kissed, Felix shifted around, kicking away Sam’s sweatpants and removing his own towel in the process.

They were both left bare, fully pressed against each other, skin to skin, and abruptly, Sam remembered something.

“Wait, aren’t we s—?”

Felix kissed him.

Sam tried again, “Aren’t we supposed to use a condom?”

Felix pulled back slightly, one eyebrow raised. “Why?” he asked. “You’ve never fucked anyone before.”

“Yes, but...”

But what?

Sam wasn’t sure.

Condoms were for preventing pregnancy and the spread of diseases, but given that neither of them had the capacity to get pregnant and had already had plenty of sexual contact...

“Besides, it’s kinda late for that. You’ve already had my c—” Felix cut himself off with a smirk. “Say it, Sammy. You know.”

“...That I’ve had your cum in my mouth?”

Felix’s eyes fluttered closed and he renewed his thrusting. “Do you trust me?” he asked again.

Again, Sam said, “...Yes.”

Felix tucked his head against Sam’s, panting in earnest, and one of his hands flew down. He tugged Sam’s leg up and quickened his thrusting.

“This is gonna be great, Sammy,” he gasped into Sam’s ear. “I’m gonna make you feel so good. Best you’ve ever felt. But let me go for just a second.”

Sam reluctantly pulled his hands away and watched as Felix stretched towards the top of the bed, reaching down between it and the wall.

After a moment of rummaging, he victoriously brandished a small tube and sat back, swiftly opening it and squeezing out some manner of gel. He coated his erection with it and closed the tube, tossing it aside.

He turned his attention to Sam and audibly inhaled.

“ _Fuck_...”

Sam swallowed.

Felix’s eyes roamed the expanse of his body, consistently returning to his erection and what lay below it.

“Do you trust me?” Felix asked for the third time, and for the third time, Sam said, “Yes.”

Immediately, Felix moved forward, pushing Sam’s legs up and apart, then positioned his erection and gave an experimental thrust.

Sam let out a pained grunt.

“It’s fine,” Felix murmured, stroking a hand down his side. “Just a little more.”

Felix began rocking his hips and Sam clawed at the bedsheets.

It _hurt_ — not unbearably so, but enough to have Sam wondering whether they’d botched a step in the process, or missed one altogether. People wouldn’t do this otherwise, would they?

Sam bit his lip in an attempt to stifle any further sounds he might emit.

“You’re doing so well,” Felix said, moving back down to rest atop him.

The praise had Sam’s insides fluttering in pleasure despite Felix’s relentless drive into him.

Felix’s hips jerked and Sam’s legs tried to close.

“It’s fine!” Felix assured once more. “I’m all the way in, it’s done. _Relax_.”

“ _I’m trying_...”

“Maybe this’ll help,” Felix said, peppering kisses across Sam’s chest and shoulders, occasionally taking the time to leave a mark.

Sam stared at the ceiling and tried to get his body under control. If only his muscles would release their tension, he had a feeling things could progress more smoothly.

“Sammy... I hope you know how fucking tight you are. Tight and hot and _perfect_ for me.”

“.....”

“You realize that I’m in you, right? Feeling you from the inside...”

“.....”

“Is this something you’ve been wanting? Have you thought about it? Jerked off to it?”

Sam absently wondered if Felix always talked through sex, but the rest of his focus was rapidly being diverted to spreading his legs and angling his hips, seeking friction for his waning erection. Surely that would help.

“Hmm? Something you want?” Felix asked with a knowing smirk.

“Just keep going...”

“Yeah?”

Sam gave a shaky nod.

Felix sat up and Sam felt the movement.

It was an immensely odd sensation, soon followed by the sensation of Felix drawing back, slowly leaving Sam’s body.

There was a pause.

“You ready?”

“Get on with it,” Sam growled.

Felix’s eyebrows shot up and he let out a surprised laugh. “ _There’s_ that bitchiness I was missing!” he gleefully said. “But alright, if that’s how it’s gonna be...”

He gave a powerful thrust, punching the air out of Sam’s lungs.

“Good enough for you?”

Sam glared.

Another thrust, stronger than the last.

Sam’s glare faltered and Felix’s look turned triumphant.

That was all the warning Sam got before Felix’s thrusts turned ceaseless, jostling his insides with no sign of stopping. The sharp sting of pain lessened into a dull ache, which was further offset by the beginnings of pleasure stirring within him.

There was something incredibly satisfying about being at Felix’s mercy, letting him do whatever he wished with Sam’s body. It wasn’t a physical pleasure, but psychological.

At least, until Felix maneuvered them into a slightly different position, one that had Sam gasping and tensing again.

Felix gave him a curious look.

“Keep going,” Sam repeated.

Felix did, and in a matter of seconds, Sam’s legs were tightening around him, hands fisting the sheets.

“Holy shit,” Felix breathed. “Are you _hearing_ yourself, Sammy?”

Yes, distantly. But that wasn’t important.

“ _Keep_. _Going_.”

Felix whined lowly, but then continued his thrusts and—

Yes.

**_Yes_.**

It was only when Sam’s moans became too loud and plentiful to ignore that he came to the realization that Felix was being unusually quiet, as if their roles had reversed. Sam’s voice filled the empty space between them, but Felix’s was nowhere to be found.

In a way, Sam supposed it made sense. He was only reserved because he chose to be, and Felix was only talkative for the same reason. Neither of those truths had any bearing on their abilities to remain silent when it was actually difficult to do so.

Sam—as was readily becoming apparent—could _not_ remain silent.

On the other hand, Felix was masterfully limiting himself to soft panting as he carried on plunging into Sam.

But of course, nothing could last forever.

“Sammy... We need each other, right? You need me too?”

“... _Yes_...”

Felix let out a muffled sound and dug his fingers into Sam’s skin, hips speeding up. The change was audible, the repetitive smacking of their bodies loud enough to set Sam’s nerves alight.

It was _obscene_.

He felt dirty, used...

And so very full, both physically and emotionally.

There was something _right_ about it all, something right about them together, something right about Felix using him like this—

“ _F_ \- _Felix_...”

“What is it, Sammy? What do you need?”

“ _I need to_ —”

“You need to come? Is that it?”

“ _Yes_...”

“So you want me to touch you? Or do you need permission? Hmm?”

“ ** _Felix_** **.** ”

“Oh, fuck, don’t make me find your murder voice hot too. But fine, you wanna come? Come, Sammy. Show me how much you _love me fucking you_.”

Sam’s hand flew down to himself, barely managed a single tug, and he was gone.

 

* * *

 

It was warm, and there was a gentle weight pressed against him.

For a few minutes, he simply existed, consciousness calmly floating upwards until it breached the surface of sleep. Memories returned to him in bits and pieces.

He blinked.

Right, Felix’s room.

Sam looked down, only to find that the gentle weight he’d felt was Felix himself, curled up against him and sound asleep.

They were _cuddling_.

After a night of intense and unprotected sex, yes, but cuddling nonetheless.

Sam felt his heart skip a beat.

He allowed himself a smile and basked in the moment.

 

* * *

 

His basking was brought to an untimely end by the pressing need to get up and relieve himself, as well as check his body over in general.

Things _had_ been rather painful at the start.

He shifted slightly and found himself with a new predicament: Felix was partially draped over him, ensuring that Sam would run the risk of waking him by getting up.

Sam wondered if it was anything like the pet owners’ dilemma he’d heard so much about.

Mercifully, Felix chose that moment to roll away and spread himself out on the other side of the bed.

Sam watched him for a minute, but Felix carried on sleeping.

Still cautious, Sam gently slid off the bed with a wince, then silently made his way to the bathroom.

After some basic upkeep—and no, he didn’t look nearly as terrible as his soreness suggested—he shuffled back into the bedroom, spotting the clothes he’d received from Felix strewn about.

Come to think of it, where were his actual clothes?

He shuffled back into the bathroom.

There they were, in the neat pile he’d left them in, and he proceeded to pull them back on.

It wasn’t until he left the bathroom that he felt the hard lump of his pocketed phone, reminding him that he was supposed to call his parents.

He should do that.

In fact, he should get going altogether; they were probably worried sick.

For that matter, what about Felix’s parents? He’d said he had the house to himself until morning, but what time was it? The sun was out, it couldn’t be that early.

What if they were already back in the house?

Had Felix even told them about Sam? What would they think?

Maybe he should sneak out.

But no, what if they’d already peeked into the room and seen him? Felix had left the door wide open, it’d be strange if they _hadn’t_ seen him. Sneaking out wouldn’t do any good then, it might even further hinder their already potentially low opinion.

Except that they probably wouldn’t have let the two of them stay in bed if their opinion was _that_ low.

Hmm. Maybe sneaking out really was the safest option.

He should still call his parents first—

“ _What the fuck_ , I can hear you worrying from all the way over here,” muttered Felix, sitting up. “What is it?”

“Are your parents home?”

Felix scoffed. “Oh, is that all? And here I thought you might be having some big ‘ _I was saving myself for someone special’_ meltdown,” he said mockingly.

Sam opened his mouth to reply but stopped short. Felix was clearly upset over something, but what?

Did he think Sam didn't see him as special?

That was just silly, not to mention out of line with Felix's carefree attitude. But if it wasn’t that, then what had prompted his burst of cynicism?

Felix narrowed his eyes. “What?”

Sam would deal with it later. “Your parents?” he prompted.

“Oh, I dunno,” Felix said with a shrug. “What time is it?”

Sam checked his phone and said, “Almost ten.”

“Should be fine.”

“Alright. I'm going to call my parents.”

“Be my guest.”

Rather than leave the room to make the call, Sam opted to stand there and simply turn away from Felix.

It only took a couple rings before his mother picked up, at which point he assured her that he was fine, that Felix was fine, that everything was fine, and that he was going home straight away.

When he finished and turned back around, Felix was hugging a pillow close and watching him.

“That’s gotta be the most Spanish I’ve ever heard from you. You always talk to your parents like that?” he asked, nuzzling the pillow.

Sam nodded, realizing that Felix had probably never heard him speak much Spanish at all, given that he and his parents had a tendency to switch to English when there were others around.

“Cute,” Felix said, letting go of the pillow to make grabby hands at Sam. “C’mere.”

Sam went.

When he was close enough, Felix reached out and grabbed his shirt, pulling him so far down that he had to support his weight on his hands.

“Tell me something in Spanish,” Felix said.

“Like what?”

“Anything. But make it sexy.”

Hmm. It was hard to evaluate what might sound ‘sexy’ to a non-native speaker’s ear, never mind what ‘sexy’ was supposed to sound like in the first place.

Felix was waiting.

Sam cleared his throat and said, “ _Desafortunado_.”

“Ooh,” Felix breathed, squinting up at him. “That sounds weirdly familiar, coming from you.”

Sam said nothing more.

Felix let him go and Sam straightened up.

“So what, that’s it? You’re leaving?” Felix asked.

“Your parents will be back soon, won’t they?”

“Sure, eventually.”

“Then I have to.”

Felix groaned. “Ugh, _fine_. Gimme a minute,” he said, dragging himself from the bed.

Sam raised an eyebrow.

Felix raised one back.

“Why are you getting up?” Sam asked.

“Because _you’re_ the one making a big deal about leaving,” Felix replied, looking decidedly unimpressed.

“But... I can just leave.”

“In whose car?”

“...Oh.”

Felix practically wheezed as he doubled over. “Did you _forget!?_ Dude! Don’t tell me I literally fucked your brains out, I still need a study buddy!”

Sam crossed his arms.

“Seriously though, after the way last night ended, I wouldn’t be surprised,” Felix continued, wiping at his eyes.

“What way?”

“Oh, man. You passed the fuck _out_ ,” Felix said. “I cleaned us both off and you didn’t move an inch.”

Sam frowned.

“Hey, cheer up. We had fun! What more could you ask for?”

With a parting wink, Felix strolled off to the bathroom.

 

* * *

 

“Sami!”

His answering greeting was cut off by his mother practically launching herself at him and proceeding to give him what had to be the tightest hug he’d ever received, Aunt Monica’s included.

He spotted his father peering out from the front door, smiling apologetically.

“Yep, brought him back safe and sound,” Felix piped up.

Sam was released as his mother pulled back, looking him in the eyes. She reverted to Spanish and asked, “Did he behave well?”

“Yes,” he answered with a chuckle.

She let him go and turned to Felix, who offered her a charming smile.

She walked towards him, then promptly enveloped him in what appeared to be an impossibly tight hug as well.

A few seconds went by with Felix seemingly rendered immobile by surprise, but then his arms came up to settle on her back and he shot Sam a look.

It was a look Sam hadn’t ever seen him wear before.

Sam’s mother whispered something in Felix’s ear and he gave a small nod.

She let him go and started walking back to the house. “We’ll be waiting for you,” she told Sam, ushering his father inside and shutting the door behind them.

Sam turned to Felix.

“What did she tell you?”

Felix shrugged as he strolled closer. “Eh, nothing I didn’t already know.”

Sam squinted but dropped the matter. “So you’re leaving?” he asked, mirroring Felix’s earlier question.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Felix sighed, sounding resigned.

“Then goodbye. And thank you.”

Felix grimaced. “No, don’t thank me for popping your cherry, that’s just weird.”

“Thank you for everything else.”

“Yeah? Like...?”

Sam reached for one of Felix’s hands, gently turning it over and tracing along his palm and fingers.

“Being a friend. Being a teacher. Helping me with things I didn’t know I needed help with. Making me a better version of myself. Being Felix.”

He brought Felix’s palm up to his lips and gave it a soft kiss, maintaining eye contact.

“...Sheesh, I was gonna let you fuck me anyway,” Felix muttered, glaring off to the side.

Sam smiled and released his hand. “Goodb—”

Goodbye kisses weren’t normally so fervent, were they?

Sam didn’t mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Felix is referring to ['Popular' from _Wicked_.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QTKv9JSy25Y)


	42. Season 2, Episode 20

It was difficult for Sam to keep his eyes from wandering in Felix’s direction throughout history, especially because he was so well rewarded for his failings.

Yes, simply seeing Felix was its own reward.

And Felix seeing him back?

That was magnificent.

 

* * *

 

“You left with Felix after the play, huh?”

“Yes.”

Mason sighed. “I’m not gonna ask. Mostly because I don’t need to know the details, but also because I’m pretty sure Megan will get them out of you anyway.”

 

* * *

 

Megan was already sitting at Sam’s lunch table, hands clasped together, looking for all the world as if she were on the verge of giving a highly important political speech.

As soon as Sam carefully took his seat, she slammed a hand down and leaned towards him.

“Tell me _everything_.”

Sam tilted his head. _Everything?_ It wasn’t his place to tell that much, nor did he particularly want to.

“We went to his house, I stayed the night, my mother likes him now.”

There, that more or less covered the span of everything.

“ _Saaam_ ,” Megan whined.

Sam began eating his lunch.

“ _Saaaaam_ ,” she insisted.

“C’mon, Sammy, don’t be rude.”

Sam turned his head just in time to see Felix gracelessly drop into the seat beside him.

“Whataya’ wanna know, Meg?” Felix asked, grinning at her and Mason as he stole some of Sam’s lunch.

Megan leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms, eyes narrowing.

Sam and Mason glanced back and forth between her and Felix.

“...Were you right?”

Felix raised an eyebrow.

Megan raised both of hers.

“Oh, _that_ ,” he said with a scoff. “I could’ve told you that ages ago.”

Megan’s mouth dropped open. “And you _didn’t!?”_

“What are we talking about?” Mason asked.

“Sam’s—” Megan cut herself off and offered Sam a polite smile.

He squinted at her.

“Anyway,” Felix interrupted. “The point is that I was right, because of course I was. I mean, have you seen him?”

Sam had a sneaking suspicion of what exactly the topic of discussion was and sent Felix a glare.

Felix defensively held up his hands. “Hey, it’s not like I’m giving out exact numbers here, okay?”

“ _Be quiet_.”

 

* * *

 

“If you have your essays completed, you can go ahead and turn them in. Remember, they’re due Wednesday. Every day after that you lose points.”

Sam had _never_ forgotten an essay’s due date before.

Maybe Felix’s brains-fucking comment did have some merit.

 

* * *

 

“Those kisses sure were something else.”

The room’s chatter instantly stopped.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’d been practicing them,” the newbie guy who’d previously raised an objection said.

Sam ought to have learned his name, but it, like its owner, was forgettable.

Felix leveled a smirk at him and quirked an eyebrow. “Why, you jealous?”

The newbie guy only offered a smirk of his own in answer.

They stared at each other.

“... _Okay_ ,” Megan interrupted. “I think the real takeaway here is we’re not allowed to laugh about Felix’s rendition of ‘Popular’ ever again.”

And just like that, the room’s chatter resumed.

 

* * *

 

“What an asshole,” Felix muttered on their way to the gym. “When’s the last time he even gave a halfway decent performance? Fucking never, that’s when.”

“You’re upset,” Sam observed.

“Oh, _really?_ How’d you guess?”

Sam ignored the mocking question and asked, “Why?”

Felix ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what kinda dreamland you live in, but I, for one, do _not_ wanna spend my last two weeks of high school with some douchebag spreading rumors about us.”

The thought wasn’t exactly a pleasant one for Sam either, but...

“It’s just two weeks.”

Felix snorted.

“A lot can happen in two weeks, Sammy.”

 

* * *

 

It was time for another round of assessments in physical education, starting with the flexibility portion.

Unlike the previous times, the teachers called people up in reverse alphabetical order.

Sam completed the test and was newly reminded of his body’s soreness.

 

* * *

 

Sam finished his homework and stared at his bag.

Hadn’t there been something else...?

He sat there and pondered the matter a while.

Right, the literature essay.

He profusely thanked his past self for having already produced a draft.

 

* * *

 

Felix came to sit at his table again.

Sam was pleased, despite the losses his lunch suffered.

 

* * *

 

“So how’s Felix?”

“Fine,” Sam answered, starting to peel another potato.

“Yeah?” his mother asked as she cut up the one he’d just finished with. “He keeps behaving well?”

Sam hummed his confirmation.

His mother checked the oven and commented, “That’s good. Did he already propose marriage to you?”

“ _No_.”

“I’m joking!” she laughed, giving him a light push. “Can you imagine? Having to maintain your own house, taking care of him... And him taking care of you, of course.”

Sam could.

After all, moving across the country together was comparable to that, wasn’t it?

 

* * *

 

Sam turned in his completed literature essay on the day it was due: No sooner, no later.

 

* * *

 

“And Felix, he makes you happy?”

“Yes,” Sam replied, looking up from a weathered copy of one of his _Sailor Moon Scout Guides_.

His father nodded. “That’s very important,” he said. “You think that you’ll stay together?”

“I don’t know,” Sam said. “I’d like to.”

“Then hopefully that’s how it’ll be,” his father said with a smile.

 

* * *

 

Rather than jog the three laps of the physical education assessment, Sam opted to keep pace with Felix, spending the hour calmly walking and talking.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Sami...”

“Hmm?”

“How were things with Felix?” his mother asked.

“I already told you.”

“Yes, but... Did you enjoy it? Was everything fine?”

Those were two very different questions, with two very different answers.

“...I enjoyed it.”

 

* * *

 

By the end of the week, Felix, Megan, and Mason were all consistently sitting at Sam’s table during lunch.

 

* * *

 

“Can you believe we’ve got just one week left?” Felix asked. “And then sweet, sweet freedom.”

Sam nodded. “It seemed like it would take longer.”

Felix shot him a horrified look. “How much longer could it take!? I’ve been wishing this year would end since the first week!”

“Would you rather it had?”

Felix’s eyes quickly swept the area before pecking him on the lips. “Honestly, yeah. But at least I got you out of the deal,” he admitted.

 

* * *

 

Sam’s parents welcomed Felix with open arms, as Sam had known they would after the long discussions that followed his return from Felix’s house.

However, aside from their eager smiles and one or two comments, their attitude remained largely unchanged, and Sam and Felix were eventually left to their study session, for which they opted to stay in Sam’s room— mostly through Felix’s insistence.

“So how much do your parents know?” he asked as soon as Sam shut the door.

“Everything, more or less.”

Felix made himself comfortable on the bed and raised an eyebrow. “‘Everything’ meaning...?”

“The general idea, anything important, things they asked me,” Sam listed off, taking a seat at his desk. He pulled out his textbook and flipped to the last chapter.

“And what’s the sexiest thing they know?”

“I told them no sexy things.”

“Aww, you’re no fun,” Felix said with a pout. “Do they at least know who fucked who?”

“ _Felix_.”

 

* * *

 

A little over halfway through the session, Sam’s mother came by to announce an impromptu outing for groceries. According to her, both she and Sam’s father would be out of the house for some time, possibly until after Felix left.

She asked if Sam needed anything, he said no, and she was gone.

Not five minutes later, Felix said, “So, Sammy. I’ve been wondering something.”

“Yes?”

“You’ve got a thing for being ordered around, yeah?”

That was certainly a blunt way of putting it, but...

Yes, Sam supposed he did.

He nodded.

Felix nodded back at him. “See, whenever things are heating up, it’s easy to tell. As soon as I give an order, you turn into a total—” he cut himself off with a smirk. “Well, never mind that. What I’m really wondering is just how far it actually goes. Is it a sex thing? Or are you always such a pushover?”

Sam frowned. He wasn’t, was he? Though he tended to be susceptible to suggestion and occasionally had difficulty making decisions, that didn’t make him a _pushover_.

Felix sat up and continued, “Because I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and you know what? I honestly can’t remember the last time you refused me something.”

Sam swallowed.

“Can _you?”_ Felix asked, sliding off the bed. “I’ve tried and I’ve tried, but nothing comes to mind. Still, you’ve got a pretty good memory, so if I’m wrong, you oughta be able to prove it easily enough.”

Sam said nothing.

Felix slunk closer and closer, until he situated himself on Sam’s lap. His arms encircled Sam’s neck and he leaned in.

“Sammy...”

“...Yes?”

“I’m not sure you _can_ refuse me anything,” Felix murmured, giving Sam’s ponytail a soft tug. “Of course, if I give you a choice you can. If I suggest something, or ask something, or anything that gives you some wiggle room. And when you don’t like stuff, you make sure I know it. But you never say _no_. When I _tell_ you to do something... When I _make_ you... You just _do_.”

Sam’s heart pounded against his ribcage.

“Oh, you put on a good show sometimes, or make requests. You weren’t too thrilled about me grabbing your dick at school that one time,” Felix went on. “But you know what? I think if I’d kept doing it anyway, you would’ve let me. Wouldn’t you?”

Sam licked his lips.

Felix laughed, smile wide and unsteady. “Shit, you get turned on just being told what a pushover you are. Sammy, you really are something special,” he said, enveloping Sam’s mouth in a heated kiss.

Sam felt utterly boneless and completely at Felix’s mercy. He opened his mouth in invitation and Felix’s tongue swiped in, brushing at his own before pulling back and passing over his lips. With one last nip at them, Felix broke the kiss.

“How about it?” he asked. “Wanna show me how good you are at following orders? Or maybe I shouldn’t _ask_ you...”

He unwound his arms from around Sam’s neck and stood, making his way back to the bed and sitting on its edge, legs spread wide.

“Get over here.”

Sam lifted himself up.

“Stop.”

Sam did.

Felix pointed to the floor between them and said, “Get down on your knees. _Crawl_.”

Carefully, deliberately, Sam lowered himself until he was on all fours.

And then he crawled.

Felix’s hips twitched minutely, and Sam crawled right up to them, awaiting more orders.

“...You’d really do anything I asked?”

“You said it yourself,” Sam replied. “When was the last time I directly went against you?”

A sharp noise briefly left Felix before he muted it. “Alright, then,” he breathed, eyes boring into Sam’s. “Suck me off.”

Ah. A blowjob.

He’d just have to try his very best.

Sam reached up and undid Felix’s pants, fingers brushing against the clothed erection trapped within.

He suspected that he wasn’t much better off himself, judging by how constricted he felt.

Once everything was pulled aside, Felix’s erection sprang free, pointed right at Sam’s face. His hands settled on Felix’s thighs and he tentatively leaned forward, bringing his lips to its head in a lingering kiss.

Felix’s fingers dug into the bedspread.

Sam parted his lips and gave it a lick.

It twitched.

Another lick.

It leaked.

Sam lapped up the fluid, tasting a mild saltiness.

He wondered if his own tasted similarly, then began licking in earnest, lips closed around Felix’s modest girth as he suckled.

After a few seconds, he felt one of Felix’s hands settle on his head.

Sam continued working, and for a while, nothing happened.

Then Felix pushed him down and he choked.

The hand left and Sam pulled up just enough to keep the tip in his mouth, glaring at Felix as he laughed.

“Whmgh?”

Felix laughed even harder. “‘What’? ‘ _What’?_ Are you seriously asking me that with my dick in your mouth? Do you have any idea how fucking _ridiculous_ that looks?” he cackled.

Sam freed his mouth and growled, “How would I? I’ve never done this before.”

“...Fuck, you’re gonna give me whiplash like this,” Felix muttered. “You can’t just say stuff like that while I’m still laughing at you.”

Sam intensified his glare and closed his lips around Felix’s erection again. He leaned forward, working it into his mouth bit by bit until he wasn’t sure it could go any deeper without setting off his gag reflex.

A moment passed.

“You’re supposed to suck, Sammy,” Felix said.

He tightened his lips and sucked.

“And use your tongue. Move up and down too.”

Some maneuvering later, Sam was bobbing his head and swirling his tongue in tandem, and if Felix’s increasingly heavier panting was any indication, he wasn’t doing as badly as he feared.

Felix’s thighs tensed under his hands, and Sam massaged them as he worked, determined to please in every way he could. He felt Felix’s hand settle on his head again, fingers threading into his hair, but not pushing or pulling.

“So... You’d do anything I asked?” Felix breathed out, lightly thrusting into Sam’s mouth. “Anything at all?”

Sam hummed.

Felix’s hips gave a small jerk. “ _Mm_ , was that a yes?”

Sam hummed again.

“Fuck... You’d sit there and let me come on your face?”

Sam watched him expectantly.

A broken moan left Felix and his hand tightened in Sam’s hair. He pulled up and Sam let him, sliding off Felix’s erection until his mouth was newly freed.

“Close your eyes,” Felix said.

Sam did so.

“Oh, hell. You really will do anything, won’t you?” came Felix’s voice, accompanied by the sound of him jerking himself. “You’ll just fucking take it. My very own little plaything. Is that what you want, Sammy? You wanna be mine?”

His hand tightened in Sam’s hair again, bordering on painful.

“Well, good news. You are.”

Liquid warmth hit Sam’s face and he gave a small start, but resolutely kept his eyes closed and waited. Little by little, Felix decorated his face, and Sam felt his own erection rapidly nearing its limit.

“Open your mouth,” Felix ordered.

As soon as Sam did, he felt the tip of Felix’s erection enter it, and he obediently suckled at the last few droplets of cum. After a few seconds, Felix withdrew, and only their heavy breaths filled the air.

“...Hold on,” Felix finally panted. “ _Don’t_ open your eyes.”

Sam heeded the words even as he heard Felix shuffle away and begin rummaging around. He idly considered touching himself, but wasn’t certain that any such touches wouldn’t instantly push him over the edge.

He doubted Felix would appreciate missing the show.

“Here,” Felix suddenly said, shuffling closer and dabbing at the area around Sam’s eyes. “Hmm. That should be good enough, you can do the rest yourself. Open your eyes?”

Sam did so.

“Looks good,” Felix declared, handing Sam one of his own shirts, presumably scavenged from the closet. “Trust me, cum in the eye is _not_ fun.”

Sam tilted his head. “Have you—?”

“Ah-ah-ah,” Felix interrupted. “Less talking, more cleaning. Actually, I should probably get going, but I can still help you out with that little problem...” He pointedly glanced down at Sam’s crotch and added, “ _If_ you hurry up.”

Sam immediately wiped off the rest of his face. He deposited the shirt into his laundry hamper and turned back towards his bed. Felix pointedly slid to one side of it, patting the empty space beside him in invitation, and Sam went.

The moment he was properly situated, Felix swung a leg over him and kissed his neck. Sam leaned into the licks and nibbles, settling his hands on Felix’s waist.

All too soon, Felix slipped out of his grasp, moving backwards and coming to a stop once he was leaning over Sam’s hips.

“You know what?” he asked, placing his hand on the bulge in Sam’s pants. “I really wanna fuck you again, but like I said, no time. That’s not gonna stop me from daydreaming about it though.” He gave the bulge a squeeze. “What about you? Do you wanna fuck me?”

Sam’s curiosity over it had definitely held strong, so he gave an answering nod. Felix smiled and opened his pants, pulling out his straining erection.

“Good to know,” he murmured as he began moving his hand, sliding it up and down, squeezing and pumping.

Sam’s hips jerked.

Felix’s smile widened. “Aren’t you eager? Actually, do you like being complimented? I haven’t managed to figure that one out yet,” he mused, still working Sam’s erection at a steady pace. “You seem to like it, but I guess everyone does. Do you have a _thing_ for it though?”

“I... I don’t know.”

“Hmm. Oh, well. There’s an easy enough way to find out,” Felix said, speeding up his hand.

Sam bit his lip, unable to stop the roll of his hips.

“Just look at you,” Felix murmured, tone soft and reverent. “My very own plaything... You’re doing wonderfully. Do you know how wonderfully you’re doing?”

A low moan escaped Sam.

Felix’s rhythm kept steady even as he boasted, “I knew it. But really, you _have_ been great, especially for being a first-timer. You’re such a quick study. I bet you could do all sorts of stuff if I just gave you a push in the right direction.”

Felix abruptly stopped his hand and trailed it down, lightly brushing over Sam’s testicles before cupping them. He tightened his hold ever so slightly.

“Would you like that?” he asked. “Would you like me guiding you along, making you into something else? Something just for _me?”_

“F- Felix...”

“Answer me, Sammy. I know you want me to. Just say it.”

“...I want you to...”

“...I’m gonna hold you to that,” Felix said, returning his hand to Sam’s erection and resuming his ministrations at full speed.

Sam gave another moan, feeling his muscles tighten in anticipation—

The unmistakable sound of the front door opening sounded out, followed by his parents’ muffled chatter.

Felix froze, staring out in the noises’ direction.

“Felix,” Sam breathed, trying to pull his attention back.

Felix blinked and turned to look at him.

Sam forgot whatever he was about to say the moment Felix’s mouth closed around his erection. He barely managed to muffle his ensuing shout, a direct result of how hot and wet and _deep_ Felix’s mouth felt. Deeper and deeper, tongue swirling all the way...

With an uncontrollable jerk, Sam spilled himself down Felix’s throat.

Felix leisurely pulled back up, cheeks hollowed out save for the outline of Sam within. He dutifully swallowed along the way, tongue insistent in its caress. When all that remained in his mouth was the very tip of Sam, he renewed his tongue’s efforts, swiping and stroking at the slit, licking up the last traces of cum.

Like clockwork, a call came from the living room.

“Sami, we just got back, okay?” Sam’s mother informed them.

“Y- Yes, we’ll be there in a minute,” Sam replied, rapidly tucking himself away and glaring at Felix. “That was too close.”

Felix wore a giddy smile to complement the gleam of his eyes. “Eh, I think it worked out fine,” he said, licking his lips.


	43. Finale

After nonstop studying throughout his Monday off, Sam was marginally more confident about his upcoming exams.

_Marginally_.

 

* * *

 

The algebra exam was as difficult as algebra ever was, and he only let himself relax once it was finally over.

 

* * *

 

The most difficult thing about the history exam was keeping his eyes from straying towards Felix.

 

* * *

 

“Looks like I’ve got you to thank for passing that,” Felix said, striding up to him as they left the room.

Sam nodded.

“I better reward you then,” Felix continued. “Don’t you think?”

“Not right _now?”_

Felix laughed. “Not unless we wanna get suspended the last week of school, no.”

Sam felt a strange mixture of relief and disappointment.

“Aww, were you hoping for something else?” Felix cooed.

“...Perhaps.”

Felix blinked.

Sam stared at him.

“Well! As much as I’d _love_ to oblige—and trust me, I really, really _would_ —I do actually need my academic career not to be in vain,” Felix said, taking a step in the direction of his next class. “See you, Sammy!”

 

* * *

 

“So what are your plans?” Megan asked, taking a sip of her drink. “For me and Mason, it’s mostly gonna depend on where we’re accepted, and we should be hearing back pretty soon. What about you two?”

“Hollywood,” Felix replied.

Megan’s eyebrows rose up. “What, just like that? Straight to L. A.?”

Felix shrugged. “There might be a detour, but yeah, for the most part,” he said, stealing some of Sam’s lunch.

She turned to Sam next. “And you?”

“I’m going with him.”

Megan’s eyes widened and she glanced at Mason.

He said nothing, nor did his face give anything away.

She turned back to Sam. “...Really?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

Felix shot her an unimpressed look. “Meg, are you trying to make m— _Sam_ second-guess himself?”

“Your...?” Megan asked, smile widening with each passing second.

“Shut up,” Felix muttered.

 

* * *

 

Megan and Felix improvised a scene.

They were so perfectly in sync that Sam found himself wondering why they didn’t perform together more often.

 

* * *

 

“You trust Megan a lot, don’t you?”

Felix raised an eyebrow.

Sam said nothing more.

“...Sure?”

“You weren’t upset when I told her about us, not the way you were upset about Mason,” he elaborated.

“Oh, that,” Felix said. “Can you blame me? Mace’s totally the type to make a scene in public if he thinks he’s right. I mean, he kinda _did_. Remember that time he decided to give me a talk about you, _right before class?_ Yeah.”

That was true, but Sam still felt as if he was missing something.

“Are you jealous?” Felix asked, stopping in front of the gym doors.

“No, I just—”

Sam was gradually coming to understand just how effective kisses were at ending conversations.

 

* * *

 

Though algebra consisted of a movie, most of the class seemed content to talk among themselves, and since it was the last week, the teacher seemed content to let them.

Sam would’ve been content to watch the movie in solitude, but not five minutes into it, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Hey. Mind if I sit here?” asked Julie. “I mean, only if it’s okay with you. I can go somewhere else.”

“It’s alright.”

Julie seemed to relax and sat down, back straight and eyes fixed on the start of the movie.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

“Felix made a great Juliet,” Julie abruptly said.

Sam nodded.

“Really, uh, really pretty,” she went on. “Right? Like, it’s not just me?”

“It’s not just you,” Sam affirmed, unable to keep a smile at bay.

“Okay, good.”

They fell silent again.

“But, um... I get a feeling you kinda prefer him without the dress, if you know what I mean.”

Sam hesitated.

It was the last week of school.

He had a feeling she’d suspected the truth about him and Felix for some time, as had others.

What harm could it do?

“What _do_ you mean?” he asked.

Julie faltered, opening and closing her mouth, eyes darting around. “Uh. Just. You know. You two, you’re...”

Sam watched her.

“I... I’m sorry. I shouldn’t ask. Forget it.”

“Why are you curious?”

Julie turned to him, appearing confused by the question. “I don’t know. I just am.”

Sam could relate all too well.

“What are you curious about?”

She looked down at her hands, absently rubbing them together. “I guess I wanted to know what it’s like,” she mumbled. “Since you’re both guys and everything.”

“It’s fine,” he said.

Julie let out an amused huff. “Yeah?” she asked, smiling weakly at him.

He nodded.

“That’s good,” she replied, then lowered her voice even further. “Do you actually like girls at all?”

“...I liked Felix dressed as one,” he admitted.

“Yeah,” Julie laughed, looking away. “Um. Yeah.”

He squinted at her.

She expertly avoided his gaze, and they both turned their attention back to the movie.

 

* * *

 

Mercifully, the history teacher brought in something more entertaining than the historical drama she’d opted for during the previous exam week.

Moreover, they were all given permission to switch seats and talk with each other, so long as they quieted down if asked to.

Sam turned to look at Felix, who offered a beckoning head tilt.

Before long, they were sitting side by side, and Felix was chattering away about his plans for Hollywood.

Sam didn’t bring up the conversation with Julie.

 

* * *

 

The biology exam was relatively easy, as it mainly covered everything from the dissection unit, and there was nothing quite like hands-on experience when it came to memorization.

When it was over, everyone began filtering from the room, and as was routine, Sam and Mason left together.

Immediately, Mason began questioning him.

“Are you really going to California? No college, no nothing? Just Hollywood?”

Sam sighed. “Hollywood’s just for him. I’ll probably have to get a job, something that’ll give us a steady source of income before his savings run out.”

“Sam, are you even listening to yourself?” Mason asked. “Do I have to explain what a terrible idea the whole thing is? And Felix—”

Mason cut himself off, face radiating a deep-seated frustration, and Sam raised an eyebrow.

“Felix what?”

“Look, I’m really happy he’s been decent to you so far. Believe me, I’d love to be proven wrong and for him to stay that way. But Sam? You should have a backup plan, for your own sake. Okay?”

Sam came to a stop and stared at him.

Mason stared back.

“...He did something to upset you,” Sam realized.

“Well, yeah,” Mason shrugged. “Most of what he does is upsetting.”

“No, you specifically.”

Mason crossed his arms and looked away.

Sam continued staring at him.

“Am I interrupting something?” Felix asked.

Sam tensed.

“...No,” Mason said, then walked past them and entered the cafeteria.

There was a brief silence.

“He was telling you all about how terrible I am again, wasn’t he?” Felix asked. “Figures. He sure can hold a grudge. But whatever, let’s get going. I’m starving, and your lunch always hits the spot.”

 

* * *

 

Lunch was awkward, to say the least.

 

* * *

 

“What did Felix do to Mason?” Sam asked Megan on the way to literature.

She rolled her eyes. “Ugh, not that again,” she groaned.

He tilted his head.

“It’s dumb, it doesn’t matter,” she said, waving a hand dismissively.

“It matters to Mason,” Sam pointed out.

Megan sighed. “Yeah, and I wish it didn’t.”

They continued walking in silence, and as they neared the class, she muttered, “You’re better off not knowing.”

Sam turned to look at her.

“It’ll just make things weird,” she said, walking into the classroom.

 

* * *

 

The literature exam was a fairly simple retreading of old ground, with basic questions covering most of what they’d read throughout the year.

 

* * *

 

A heavy downpour began halfway through drama, coating the windows in water and audibly hammering against the building’s roof.

As the hour drew to a close, the school’s intercom system crackled to life with a voice informing them to remain in their classes until later notice.

The decision to continue playing improv games was practically unanimous.

 

* * *

 

Sam hurried to his car with Felix tagging along, on account of having something ‘important’ to discuss.

What it could be, Sam had no idea, and a great deal of his rushing was due to curiosity rather than any desire to avoid the rain.

He quickly unlocked his car and scrambled into the front, nearly as fast as Felix.

“What did you want to talk about?” he asked, setting his bag down on the backseat.

Felix ran a hand through his hair, grimacing at its wetness. “We should skip school tomorrow,” he said without preamble.

“Why?”

“Two exams a day, remember? We already have our drama and gym grades, so there’s no point in showing up,” Felix explained. “Plus, I’ve got the house to myself until Friday night.”

Sam thought about it. He didn’t foresee his parents raising any objections, but...

“Then what do you propose?” he asked.

Felix grinned and said, “Go home and tell your parents. Say that you’ll go to school, but instead come straight to my place so we can hang out the whole day.”

“And after that?”

“I dunno,” Felix shrugged. “You go back home on Friday, I guess.”

Sam shook his head. “We should come to school then.”

Felix’s laughter was loud and sudden. “What the fuck for!?”

“Friday’s the last day.”

“ _So?”_

“We should be there to say goodbye to everyone,” Sam replied. He racked his mind, knowing there was another reason that attending on the last day was important, and the answer finally came to him. “Yearbooks are getting handed out that day too.”

“You got one?” Felix asked, tone incredulous.

“Yes.”

Felix gave a long-suffering sigh, leaning back against his seat. “... _Fine_. But you better show up at my house tomorrow, got it?”

Sam nodded.

 

* * *

 

After a short conversation, his parents granted him permission to spend the next night at Felix’s house.

“So Friday you go to school and afterwards you return home, okay?” his mother clarified.

“Yes.”

 

* * *

 

“Alright, I’ve got just the thing to kick the day off. Did you have breakfast?”

“Of course.”

Felix quirked an eyebrow but said nothing more on the matter, leaving his room’s door wide open yet again. He retreated to his closet, and after a few seconds of rummaging, walked back to Sam, presenting him with what appeared to be a balled up napkin.

“Open it,” Felix prompted.

Sam did so, only to find a single—somewhat squished—brownie.

“I’m thinking we can each have a half,” Felix said. “Have you ever gotten high before?”

All at once, Sam understood what exactly Felix’s plans for the day involved.

“Have _you?”_ he asked, taken aback at the entire prospect.

“Yeah, loads of times. I’m guessing you’re a newbie at this too?”

Sam nodded.

Felix clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Eh, you’ll be fine. We’re splitting it, after all. If I can handle half a brownie, so can you.”

 

* * *

 

Sam wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he began to feel...

Different.

It wasn’t anything like what he’d been expecting to feel, which was solely inspired by what little media he’d seen addressing the topic.

Instead, he felt different in a way that he couldn’t explain.

Felix continued talking about whatever he’d been talking about, and his words faded into the sound of the rain beating down on the roof, a ceaseless murmur.

Sam closed his eyes, trying to calm his racing thoughts.

Racing, racing, so fast...

The mind was a highway and he was speeding along it, going too fast to pull over without possibly upending his entire self. He passed exit after exit—thought after thought—but couldn’t hope to read the signs—process the thoughts—before he was zooming past and leaving them miles behind.

Faster and faster, zooming past...

Too fast, too fast...

He was going to crash—

“Dude, chill!”

Sam opened his eyes, relieved to find himself safely on Felix’s bed and not wildly veering down a dark highway.

“You are _so_ out of it,” Felix muttered.

Sam turned towards his voice. “...It’s too fast...”

“What is?”

“...Thoughts...”

“Yeah?” Felix chuckled. “Tell me more.”

“Wait...” Sam fumbled around in his pockets until he found his phone and pulled it out. “Let me just...”

Felix made a questioning noise, but Sam paid him no mind.

It was _imperative_ that he get this done while he was still lucid.

And alive.

 

* * *

 

[OUTGOING]  
if i die pkease uell my parets ilove them  
and youre my favoqite cousin

 

* * *

 

Sam was in the middle of explaining the symbolism inherent in the _Revolutionary Girl Utena_ movie’s ending when Felix interrupted him.

“You’re _cursing_. You’re actually _cursing_. Shit, this was the best idea ever.”

Annoyed, Sam indignantly replied, “I curse _all the time!”_

“When have you ever cursed?” Felix asked with a laugh.

“In Spanish...”

“What? No, you don’t.”

“I do!”

Felix narrowed his eyes. “Why the fuck would you curse in Spanish but not in English?”

Sam shrugged.

“Fine, let’s say I believe you,” Felix said, sitting up and crossing his arms. “What curse words do you use ‘all the time’?”

A pause, and then Sam ran through every single Spanish curse word he could think of. Sure, some of them were dialect-specific, but Felix hadn’t asked for a universally Spanish list, just the ones Sam used.

When he couldn’t think of any more, he fell quiet and looked triumphantly at Felix.

“...Holy shit, this might just be the best day of my life.”

 

* * *

 

“I don’t know how to tell my parents about Hollywood.”

“By telling them.”

Sam shook his head minutely, staring down at his lap. “It’s hard.”

“Then don’t. Elope with me. Give ’em a call once we’re outta the state.”

Sam shook his head again. “I can’t do that. They need to know. I need to ask them.”

“... _Ask_ them?”

“Mhmm.”

“What for? You’re coming either way.”

“.....”

Felix gave a short, dry laugh. “Sammy, are you telling me you wanna ask your parents for _permission?”_

Sam thought about it, looking up at Felix. “It’s the right thing to do...”

“What the fuck, we’ve practically graduated and you’re still asking your parents for _permission?”_ Felix repeated, shuffling closer and poking at Sam’s chest. “You shouldn’t be asking them _shit_. We’re going out into the real world, _Hollywood_ , and you can’t be calling them every ten minutes to ask for fucking _permission_.”

“But—”

“No, no buts,” Felix said. His fingers gripped Sam’s jaw. “No more getting permission from your parents. You want permission so bad, you can get it from _me_.”

Sam blinked.

Felix’s other hand held up three fingers. “Simon says you can tell your parents.” He lowered a finger. “Simon says you can’t _ask_ them.” Another finger went down. “Simon says you promised you’d come with me.”

He held the last finger up, staring intensely at Sam.

“You _promised_. So do it.”

Sam nodded in Felix’s grip.

 

* * *

 

Ten minutes later, they were both flat on their backs, staring up at the ceiling.

“What’s the most fucked up thing you did as a kid?” Felix asked.

Sam frowned. Weren’t most childhood actions fucked up in retrospect?

“Children have a skewed sense of morality and social norms,” he said. “Nearly everything they do is, to an extent, fucked up.”

“Not nearly _everything_ ,” Felix refuted. “Or were you just a really fucked up kid?”

“...Maybe.”

 

* * *

 

“Okay, Sammy, c’mere.”

Eyes closed, Sam rolled towards Felix’s voice, slowing once he brushed against him but not stopping.

“Fuck, you’re heavy,” Felix huffed.

In lieu of providing any sort of verbal answer, Sam burrowed his face into the junction of Felix’s neck and shoulder.

“Sammy...”

“Mm.”

Felix’s hands settled on his back, then trailed down until they reached his rear and started massaging it.

Sam stayed put.

“...Sammy...”

“Mm.”

He felt Felix shift and strain under him before letting out a frustrated breath.

“Goddammit, I’m trying to kiss you.”

Sam tried burrowing himself closer to Felix, to no avail.

“ _Sammy_ ,” Felix whined. “I _had_ planned on you being on top, but not like _this_.”

Sam let out a sleepy sigh and drifted off to the sound of Felix’s mutterings.

 

* * *

 

He awoke to the sound of rain and cracked his eyes open.

Hmm. Felix’s room.

He hauled himself up, looking around.

Ah. Felix.

Sam shuffled off his sleeping form and sat back, taking a moment to assess his mental faculties.

He felt...

_Mostly_ back to normal.

Still somewhat different.

What time was it?

He felt around for his phone but came up empty, so took to scanning his eyes over the bed.

Nothing.

He peeked over the side of it.

His efforts were rewarded by his phone staring up at him, abandoned on the floor.

He reached down and closed his fingers around it, checking the time.

Oh.

Oh, no.

He was supposed to call his parents after school hours, when he’d supposedly ‘arrive’ at Felix’s house.

They must be worried _sick_.

He should call them.

A basic conversation over the phone ought to be straightforward enough for enough for him to handle, right? It was his only option, at any rate.

He waited as the phone rang.

It was only a couple seconds, but he managed to have so many thoughts in the span of that single ring.

Was his mind always this efficient? Perhaps people were simply conditioned to never notice the multitude of their thoughts, much like they ignored the perpetual presence of their nose within their line of sight.

He was peering down at his nose when the ring was cut off by his mother’s voice.

“Sami? Are you okay?”

“Y- Yes.”

“...Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m fine.”

There was a pause.

He couldn’t figure out if it was a long or short pause, nor whether he should attempt to fill the silence.

His mother filled it instead.

“And... Is Felix there?”

“Yes, he’s sleeping.”

“...So early?”

“Yes...? I just woke up.”

“Ah, that’s why you sound like that.”

“...Yes...”

“Alright. Well, I’ll leave you then,” she said. “Remember that you can call us for anything.”

“Yes... Thanks.”

“It’s not any problem, okay? Have a good time!”

“Yes...”

“Bye, we love you.”

“Bye, I love you both too.”

The call ended and Sam brought his phone down.

“Glad to know that going ‘yes, yes, yes’ on the phone transcends language barriers,” Felix piped up from behind him.

Sam nodded, noticing he had a new text from Diana.

 

* * *

 

[INCOMING]  
sami??? what’s happening

 

* * *

 

He answered her to the best of his ability.

 

* * *

 

[OUTGOING]  
I’m fine. Everything is fine. Don’t worry.

 

* * *

 

There, that should do it.

He pocketed his phone and turned to find Felix lounging where he’d been left, lazily smiling back at him.

“So,” Felix said, quirking an eyebrow. “Are we gonna do this or what?”

“...‘This’?”

Felix rolled his eyes. “ _Fuck_. Are we gonna _fuck?_ Are you gonna _fuck_ me? C’mon, Sammy, it wasn’t even the whole brownie.”

Right, yes.

Fucking.

“...Sure.”

“You’re killing me here,” Felix pouted. “I need this to be sexy. You can do sexy, can’t you?”

Sam considered it. Could he? He’d never known himself to do anything sexy before, though he was hardly the most impartial judge on the issue, never mind his inherent social failings. For that matter, did sexy people know they were sexy? Felix certainly seemed to give the impression that he did, but Sam would hesitate to call him sexy. Lewd and risqué, certainly, occasionally provocative and possibly even romantic, but sexy? Now that Sam thought about it, it did seem as though that was what Felix was attempting to evoke with most of his actions—

“What are you thinking?” Felix interrupted his train of thought.

“You’re not sexy,” Sam answered.

Felix spluttered, indignation crossing his features despite his completely immobile frame. “ _Excuse me?”_

Sam shrugged. “You’re not.”

The spluttering continued, now accompanied by waving hands and splayed fingers.

“It’s fine,” Sam assured him. “I like you anyway.”

The spluttering stopped and Felix’s look turned appraising. “...Alright, then,” he said, slowly bringing his hands back down. “Why _do_ you ‘like’ me?”

Sam consid—

“And no thinking about what you’re gonna say, just say it,” Felix instructed.

Well, in that case...

“You're interesting. Annoying too, but even then, you're interesting,” Sam said. “You've been annoying me since we met. Sometimes I think you're doing it on purpose, but then I remember it's just how you are. Annoying and interesting and wonderful to be around. Funny, smart, talented. Always intense, but especially when it has to do with something that matters to you. Directing. Performing. Fucking. All three at the same time. You're the most interesting person I've ever met, and you make me feel all sorts of things, good and bad. And boners. How could I not like you?”

“Sammy...”

“Hmm?”

“Shut up and fuck me.”

“Alright—”

Felix held up a hand. “No, seriously. Shut up. ‘ _Be quiet’_ , like you always say.”

Sam didn't always say that. In fact, he hardly ever did.

He could refute it later though.

For the time being, he watched as Felix dug out his tube of gel from its hiding place and haphazardly tossed it onto the bed between them.

“Right, here's how this is gonna work. I’ll tell you how to fuck me, and you'll follow my orders. If you don't, you're never fucking me again. Got it?”

Sam nodded.

“Good,” Felix declared, lying back on the pillows and making grabby hands at him.

Sam drew closer until Felix’s hands got ahold of his face. Rather than initiate a kiss, Felix firmly held him in place and glared.

“You're gonna take off your clothes, then you're gonna take off mine, and then you're gonna fuck me,” he said, eyes boring into Sam’s. “You've got two minutes, one for each set of clothes. Now get started.”

Face newly released, Sam sat up and started working off his clothes. It was a relatively easy task, regardless of the time limit, and he turned his attention to Felix’s clothes before long. He reached for what was closest, which happened to be Felix’s pants. Then his socks, his underwear, his shirt—

“You really do suck at making this sexy, y’know,” Felix commented.

Sam ignored him and finished his task, then eyed the tube of gel and opened it, remembering what Felix had done and trying his best to follow the same steps. He poured out enough gel to thoroughly coat himself and paused.

Felix had just shoved his way into Sam, hadn’t he?

And it had _hurt_.

Sam glanced at Felix’s erection, then his own.

There had to be a better option.

“Well? What are you waiting for?” Felix asked. “C’mon, just do it.”

As much as Sam wanted to follow the order, he also didn’t want to hurt Felix, and from the sound of it, Felix wasn’t looking forward to being hurt either.

But what else could he do?

He shuffled into position and Felix opened his legs.

Sam stared down at him.

“We don’t have all day,” Felix muttered. “Okay, we sorta do, but that’s not the p—”

Sam swiped a gelled finger against Felix’s opening, making his words taper off into a short yelp.

“Sammy, what the fuck are you doing?”

Sam couldn’t exactly provide a straightforward answer without talking, so he’d have to settle for silence and hope that Felix understood.

Understood _what_ , not even Sam himself was sure.

It was just that Felix was so lithe, so small. Sam painlessly fitting inside of him?

Madness.

He swiped at the opening again, rubbing his finger around it in small circles.

Felix squirmed but said nothing, and Sam looked up to find him facing away, eyebrows tilted upwards and lips firmly pressed together.

A rare sight.

Sam kept watching his face and gently pressed at his opening.

Felix squirmed again.

Pressing, pressing, and suddenly Sam’s finger went in.

He hadn’t intended for that to happen, but found himself intrigued by the sight nonetheless. Carefully, he pushed his finger deeper in, eyes flitting upwards to gauge Felix’s reaction.

Felix continued resolutely staring off to the side, out the room’s open door, with his hands clenched into loose fists.

Sam looked back down as he felt his finger fully enter Felix. It was a strange sensation, and he idly worked his finger in and out, trying to imagine what Felix would feel like around his erection. For that matter, what would it feel like for Felix? A finger was one thing, but Sam _was_ apparently well-endowed in the genital department.

What if...?

He drew his finger nearly all the way out, then added another alongside it and slid them back in.

“...Sammy...”

Sam continued moving his fingers back and forth.

“...What are you doing...?”

Sam was no nearer to understanding that himself, though he’d begun to think it’d at least acclimate Felix to the sensation of being stretched.

He pumped his fingers slowly, ready to stop the moment Felix asked him to.

But Felix didn’t, his averted gaze steady but blank.

Sam looked back down at his fingers disappearing into Felix and frowned. Their size still wasn’t comparable to that of his erection, but could he hope to fit in a third?

Well, Felix would be stretched wider either way, so why not keep things simple and carry on along the same path?

Sam drew out his fingers and hesitated.

Maybe more gel would help.

His other hand fumbled around for the tube, finally opening it and pouring out another helping of it onto his fingers. A moment later, he added a third and gradually nudged them into Felix again.

At first, nothing seemed to change. Felix’s half-lidded eyes still watched the doorway and his breaths were even.

And then suddenly, his brow was furrowing and he was biting his lower lip, body tensing.

Sam paused.

Felix said nothing.

As gently as he could manage, Sam continued massaging his fingers into Felix, intently keeping track of his reactions: The stilted breaths, the barely open eyes—

Felix’s hips abruptly jerked and Sam’s fingers almost slipped out.

“Wh- What the _fuck?”_ Felix panted, eyes meeting Sam’s at last. “Do that again.”

Sam would be happy to do that again, except he had no idea what ‘that’ was.

He pulled his fingers away and started pushing them in again, just as carefully as he’d initially done so, and for a few seconds nothing happened. Felix intently stared down at where Sam was working, and Sam intently stared at Felix.

And then it happened again; Felix’s hips jerked, accompanied by a short gasp.

Sam squinted down at his fingers.

He curled them.

“ _Ah!”_

Interesting.

He began prodding at the same area, riveted by Felix’s fluttering eyelashes and quivering thighs. The longer he prodded, the more noticeable its effect was. Little by little, Felix’s breaths quickened and his face grew flushed.

“Sam,” he breathed, bringing one of his fists to his mouth and biting at a knuckle. “Would you just _fuck me already?”_

That was certainly something Sam could do.

He looked down at his fingers again, comparing their combined width to that of his erection. As far as he could tell, Felix was probably adjusted—

“... _Please?”_

Why was Sam sitting there and wasting time? Felix wanted him badly enough to sound like _that_ , and Sam was supposed to give him what he wanted.

He pulled his fingers out and opened the tube of gel, adding yet another coating onto himself and hoping it would sufficiently ease the way.

Sam wouldn’t make Felix wait another minute.

He moved closer, taking himself in hand and angling his hips, brushing against Felix’s loosened opening. With a slight push, he was sinking in, and Felix tensed again.

Sam pushed on, reveling in the feeling of Felix around him, engulfing him. Warm, tight, shuddering...

His mouth opened before he remembered he wasn’t allowed to speak. He shut it, unsure of what he would’ve even said, and occupied himself with observing instead. There was no shortage of things for his eyes to rove over, from the way he was steadily disappearing into Felix, to the way Felix’s entire body shook with light tremors.

“F- Fuck, how much is left?”

Most of it.

Felix swung his head from side to side. “No, don’t answer that. Just... Get it all in.”

What Felix wanted, he should have, but Sam still preferred erring on the side of caution. He slightly increased the force of his pushing, ready to stop at a moment’s notice, but Felix only lay there, silently enduring it.

It was such a contrast to his usual demeanor, and yet so very _Felix_. Likely in pain but stubbornly refusing to desist? It was so indicative of him as a person that Sam felt a twinge deep down inside himself, one akin to...

To...

He reached out for one of Felix’s fists, thumbing at the fingers until they unclenched, then kissed the palm, wishing he could convey even a fraction of what he was feeling.

Yes, Felix was always right, and yes, they needed each other.

Sam _needed_ Felix.

“Are y—” Felix cut himself off and swallowed before trying again. “Are you all the way in? I mean, I can take more, but...”

Very nearly.

Sam pushed farther, and Felix’s hand newly clenched in his.

And he was in.

“Oh, fuck, you’re really in there, aren’t you?” Felix asked with a strangled laugh. “I can feel the rest of you pressed right up against my ass.” His legs shifted against Sam. “Shit, this is kind of unfair. When I fucked you and you had your legs around me, you could’ve snapped me in half. But what the hell can I do to you?”

Sam hadn’t thought about it that way, but he supposed it was true. Nevertheless, he failed to see how it was ‘unfair’.

Felix could do whatever he wanted; he only had to ask.

“Mm... Okay, I still feel like you’re rearranging my guts, but whatever. Start doing your thing.”

Still holding onto Felix’s hand, Sam gradually pulled out of his tight heat, then bit by bit, inched back into it. Aside from Felix’s renewed silence, there was no indication that he was in any discomfort, so Sam carried on, taking his time all the while.

Into Felix, out again. In, out.

Each time, Felix’s body was faster to take him in, until he was smoothly rocking back and forth.

He felt a tug on his hand.

Thinking Felix wanted his own hand back, he let it go, only for it to wrap around his and tug harder.

“Get down here,” Felix muttered.

Sam would, but their position didn’t seem conducive to it, not unless...

He hooked his arms under Felix’s knees and leaned down—

“ _Oh, fuck_.”

Sam paused.

“No, no, keep going—”

Felix cut himself off with a shudder as Sam did just that.

“ _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck_...”

That seemed like a good sign.

Sam sped up, momentarily giving in to his own body’s desires, chasing his pleasure in Felix’s. He drove in faster and harder, much like he’d been driven into himself, though he hoped he’d done a suitable job of sparing Felix most of the accompanying pain.

“S- S- Sammy... Is this why you were so fucking loud the other day? Y- You sounded like I’d paid you, but— _Fuck!”_ Felix moaned, hands scrabbling around on the bedspread.

Sam leaned closer, mirroring their earlier position and burrowing his head against Felix as his hips went on thrusting, practically of their own volition. He felt Felix’s fingers bury themselves in his hair, yanking at fistfuls of it with every jostle, but he couldn’t bring himself to mind.

All that mattered was their combined pleasure.

“You know what? I th- think you got it all wrong... Because, Sammy? What you h- have isn’t a fucking p- penis, it’s a giant, goddamn _cock_.”

Sam nuzzled Felix’s neck and sped up.

Felix gave a breathless laugh. “You like that? You like knowing h- how big you are?”

Not really, no.

But it sounded like Felix did.

“I’m not gonna be able to w- walk right for a fucking week, all because of you and your m- monster cock,” Felix panted.

Sam pounded into Felix as hard as he could, rocking them both back and forth.

“H- Hey, S- Sammy,” Felix forced out, every thrust leaving him winded. “H- How would you like t- to fuck me when I’m d- dressed up? When I’m F- Felicia?”

His words inadvertently reminded Sam of an altogether different question, one that had gone unasked—and subsequently, unanswered—for far too long, but his contemplation of it was cut off by Felix adding, “I r- really wanna know. You c- can talk.”

It took Sam a couple seconds to remember Felix’s proposition, but once he did, he cleared his throat and said, “I like what you like.”

Felix let out a noise halfway between a laugh and a sob. “N- No, don’t say _that_. You’re g- gonna get my h- hopes up.”

“Felix,” Sam spoke, “I can’t think of anything you’d like that I wouldn’t find some value in.”

Felix’s fingers tightened in his hair. “Y- You’re just saying th- that. Heat of the m- moment and all. B- Besides, you’re so c- clueless about this stuff, how _could_ you th- think of anything?”

“I already know you like the risk of being caught,” Sam reminded.

“Pshhh, that’s n- nothing. Who d- doesn’t like that?” Felix asked.

“Then what?”

The only sound in the room was the rhythmic meeting of their bodies, fast and strong and showing no sign of stopping.

“...S- Sam?”

“Yes?”

Felix’s legs tightened around him. “You n- need me... R- Right?”

“I do.”

“I w- want you t- to say it.”

“I need you,” Sam said, and Felix shook against him, inside and out, moaning and scratching at his scalp.

It was too much, and before Sam knew it, he was releasing deep into Felix. The two of them tensed against each other, Felix’s fingers entwined in Sam’s hair and Sam’s hands firm on Felix’s hips, then the moment passed and their bodies slumped.

For several minutes, the two of them lay there, too focused on breathing to cobble together a string of words. Felix’s insides continued trembling and pulsating, and Sam stayed put despite the excessive stimulation.

As always, it was Felix who spoke first.

“Sammy...?”

Sam hummed in acknowledgement, mindlessly stroking one of Felix’s thighs.

“That journal I got you...”

“Mhmm?”

“Does it ask anything like what your best friend likes most about you? Or maybe your best quality?”

Sam racked his mind. “I think so.”

“Well, I’ve got an answer for you,” Felix said. “It starts with ‘monster’, and it ends with ‘c—”

Sam was glad he’d learned how effective kisses were at ending conversations.

 

* * *

 

“Do we _have_ to?”

Sam changed into the spare clothes he’d brought along and replied, “You’re welcome to stay here, though I’d appreciate it if you made the effort. You’re not planning on attending graduation, are you?”

Felix shook his head.

“Then this might be the last time you see some people,” Sam pointed out. “I’m sure Megan and Mason would be happy if you showed up.”

Felix hugged a pillow close and grumbled, “Mason’s always pissed at me, and Megan, what, thinks she _understands_ me or something? Whatever.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Either way, they’ll be happy to see you one last time.”

Felix glared up at him.

Sam crossed his arms.

“... _Fine_ , but you owe me for this.”

 

* * *

 

Sam was relatively certain that the day was solely for the benefit of the students.

There were no exams left, nor any pretense of teaching them anything more or even upholding all the usual rules.

All that was left were movies hardly anyone watched, along with the endless chatter that seamlessly carried throughout the school from hallway to hallway and class to class.

 

* * *

 

Felix and Megan shared knowing looks all throughout lunch.

Sam and Mason valiantly attempted holding a conversation a grand total of two times— once each.

 

* * *

 

“Couldn’t help noticing you and Sam were absent yesterday.”

The room went quiet and Felix narrowed his eyes at the newbie guy who’d spoken. “Yeah? What about it?”

“Nothing,” the newbie guy shrugged. “Just might’ve heard a rumor or two.”

Felix ground his jaw. “Alright, you know what?” he snarled. “It’s the last day, fuck it. Sammy, get up here. We’re doing a scene.”

Knowing better than to protest, Sam did as Felix instructed, making his way to the front of the room amid a flurry of whispers and watchful gazes.

“You remember our competition scene?” Felix asked him.

Oddly enough, Sam did. He thought he would’ve long forgotten it.

Felix waved a hand and said, “Don’t worry, you don’t really need the exact lines, just the gist.”

Sam nodded.

“Great,” Felix said, smirk stretched wide. “Megan!”

She gave a small start. “Yes?”

“We’re doing the styles game. I’m assuming you know what to do?”

Megan blinked, then grinned broadly enough to give Felix’s smirk a run for its money. “Oh, _definitely_ ,” she said.

Felix clapped his hands and turned back to Sam. “Then let’s do this!”

 

* * *

 

The initial style was always ‘regular’, so when Felix’s “I hate you” was delivered in just as deadpan a tone as every previous performance, Sam’s memory seamlessly picked up the scene.

“He’s here,” he answered, already anticipating Felix’s response.

Sure enough, it came in the form of him grating, “Blonde. Bisexual. _Bridesmaid_.”

Unlike every previous performance, his words were followed by Megan shouting out, “Romance!”

Judging by the quirk of Felix’s eyebrow, that was exactly what he’d been planning on. Sam barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes and tried to adhere the delivery of his next line to the assigned style.

“He has an escort. Four of his father’s men... And _a civilian woman_. Plus whoever’s with them upstairs.”

Felix edged closer to him and trailed a hand down his arm. “That is the _unicorn_ of club girls... I just want to find _the one_...”

Sam paused. How could he possibly hope to play his next lines within the style of romance? Especially if Felix wasn’t sticking quite as closely to his own?

Well, Sam had seen the game played many times before. There usually was no script at all, and Felix _had_ said ‘the gist’ was all that was necessary...

“It’s too loud,” he tried. “We should go somewhere quieter.”

Felix pulled away with a frown. “Is it too loud... Or do you just not want to _listen?”_

Sam racked his mind for a suitable response and settled on, “Only because you’re always—”

Both of them froze, turning towards the imaginary interruption the original scene called for.

“Hmm. Well,” Felix said, biting his lip and shooting Sam a forlorn look, “sounds like we’ll have to hurry up.”

“Porn!” Megan yelled out, eliciting various shrieks of laughter from around the room.

Felix’s lips pulled up enough to show off his teeth. “I’m sure we’ve got time for a quickie though. It’ll be easy,” he said, one hand on his hip. “In and out. Nobody’s gotta find out.”

Judging by the room’s level of noise, Felix was doing an admirable job of adapting his own script.

Sure enough, he waited until everyone had quieted down before gesturing out at them and adding, “They’re definitely not gonna hear us with _this_ noise.”

Again, the noise in question started back up, and Felix’s self-satisfied expression spoke volumes.

Sam was too preoccupied with gauging when he should deliver his next line to dedicate much time to actually constructing said line, so it was with no small amount of reluctance that he eventually stated an unchanged, “That’s _not_ an excuse.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Felix cooed, slinking closer wrapping both of his arms around one of Sam’s. “I’ll _behave_.”

“That definitely worries me.”

“ _Romeo And Juliet_ ,” Megan called out.

Felix abruptly swayed where he stood, teetering in place for a few seconds before falling against Sam, who easily held him up. Ever so dramatically, Felix brought a hand to his forehead, as though he were on the verge of fainting.

“Samuel... Our time runneth short, art thou ready?” he asked, sounding for all the world as if he were on his deathbed.

Sam deliberated.

Felix gazed up at him.

“...Sticketh to aliases?”

Their audience seemed to approve of his decision, but then Felix’s hands wrapped behind his neck and Sam understood the unspoken direction.

He leaned down and brought their mouths together.

The room’s reactions were just background noise.

 

* * *

 

“Did you see the look on that asshole’s face?” Felix laughed, an extra bounce in his step as he dodged puddles. “That was fucking _fantastic_.”

Sam had glimpsed it, and while gratifying, it was no match for the pleasure that Felix’s sheer delight brought him.

 

* * *

 

As had been promised, yearbooks were handed out throughout the hour, and as soon as Sam sat back down with his, Felix pressed up along his side, peering over his shoulder.

The first couple pages were filled with messages of school pride and noteworthy events that had occurred throughout the year.

“Ugh, these are the boring pages. Skip them,” Felix said.

Sam did so, arriving to the school faculty photos.

“ _Boring_ ,” Felix said again.

Sam skipped past.

“Ooh, wait, it looks like there’s pages for the extracurricular stuff,” Felix pointed out. “We didn’t really have extracurricular drama this year, but I wonder if it got a page anyway.”

After flipping past numerous pages dedicated to the school’s various sports teams, Sam happened upon a few showcasing other things. Of those, only one was dedicated to drama, featuring two large photos.

Both were both from the class’s auditorium performances, but Sam had no memory of them ever being taken. In hindsight, he supposed it did explain the presence of a man who’d only taken photographs and left before speaking to anyone.

He looked at the photos more closely, easily spotting himself in both.

The first was from their initial performance in the auditorium, during the director project. They were all lined up, giving the final bow at curtain call. The second photo depicted the same scenario, but was much more recent, from their latest performance in the auditorium.

Felix was beside him in both.

Sam’s nostalgia was cut short by Felix’s exclamation.

“What the fuck!? You _grew!”_

Sam blinked.

“Look!” Felix said, tapping a finger against the first photo. “See? You were practically me-sized! And now?” He tapped the second one. “You’re huge!”

Now that Felix pointed it out, it did appear to be the case.

Sam looked up to find Felix pouting, but then a smirk spread across his face.

“Guess your dick got huge too.”

Sam sighed.


	44. Curtain Call

Sam hung up the phone and announced, “We’ve been invited to my aunt’s New Year’s party.”

“Ooh, a _fiesta_ ,” Felix grinned up at him from the couch.

“If you want to call it that.”

Felix sat up. “So? We gonna go?”

“If you want to,” Sam replied, taking a seat beside him. “I’d enjoy visiting, but I can’t imagine making the trip for a single night would be worth it.”

“Then we stay a while.”

Sam blinked at him and Felix laughed.

“C’mon, you make it sound like I hate road trips. They’re great! You remember last time, right?”

He winked, prompting an eye roll from Sam.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, you said your whole family’s gonna be there, right?”

“More or less.”

“Do they actually know about us?”

“More or less.”

“Is it gonna be a problem?”

Sam turned the shopping cart into the next aisle. “I don’t think so.”

“You sure?” Felix asked. “Because we both know I’ve pretty much perfected Felicia. I’m up for acting the whole night, it’ll be good practice.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Sam assured, depositing Felix’s preferred brand of cookies into the cart.

“Hmph. Their loss.”

 

* * *

 

[INCOMING]  
it’ll be fantastic finally meeting felix!

 

* * *

 

Sam read over Diana’s text, then mentally went through all he’d learned about Felix over the last few months.

He typed out his reply.

 

* * *

 

[OUTGOING]  
I wouldn’t be so sure.

 

* * *

 

“Alright, Sammy. We’ve got plenty of time. Gimme a crash course in your New Year’s parties.”

They weren’t even on the interstate yet.

Sam cleared his throat anyway.

 

* * *

 

“Hey.”

Sam made a questioning noise, engrossed in the book he’d brought along.

“So, uh, seems like we’re a decent way into the middle of nowhere,” Felix commented. “Empty road, empty scenery...”

“Mhmm.”

“... _Sammy_...”

“Pull over,” Sam said, attention still on his book.

“What? No, that takes all the fun out of it, plus it’s suspicious as fuck.”

“Then slow down.”

“Oh, come on, there hasn’t been another car for half an hour.”

Sam resolutely kept his eyes on his book. “Pull over or slow down.”

Felix let out a long-suffering sigh but slowed the car to a lazy glide.

“There, happy now?” he asked.

“Sufficiently,” Sam replied, putting his bookmark to use and leaning over to Felix’s lap.

 

* * *

 

“This motel’s so skeezy.”

“Neither of us were in any condition to keep driving,” Sam pointed out, pulling the covers over himself. “Now go to sleep.”

Felix sidled up to him, targeting his neck. “We oughta have some fun first,” he murmured between kisses.

“You just said this motel was ‘skeezy’.”

“So? We’ve fucked in worse places.”

Sam couldn’t argue that.

 

* * *

 

“Does traveling make you hornier?” Sam abruptly asked.

Felix pulled his hand away and passed Sam a tissue. “What?”

“Each time we’ve made this trip, sex has been all you’ve thought about,” Sam explained as he cleaned himself off. “Does it come naturally?”

“Really? Huh. Guess I never noticed,” Felix said, leaning back and crossing his legs on the dashboard.

“Any idea why?”

A shrug came through in Felix’s voice as he said, “I dunno. Maybe I just like going places with you.”

“Or you just like the idea of getting caught.”

“Yeah, probably.”

 

* * *

 

“Did you see that fucking attendant checking you out?” Felix snarled, ripping open a candy bar that Sam wasn’t entirely sure had been paid for.

“Was he?” Sam asked.

Felix nodded, furiously chewing his first bite of candy. “Yeah, can you believe it? What was he even expecting, a chance to fuck you in the middle of his shift? Isn’t that trashy as hell?”

“It would be unprofessional,” Sam conceded.

“Damn right it would,” Felix replied, taking another bite of candy.

Sam knew better than to pursue the matter further.

 

* * *

 

It came as no surprise that Felix would practically shove him onto the bed as soon as they entered their motel room.

It was also unsurprising that he would proceed to thoroughly claim Sam every which way.

What _was_ surprising was what came afterwards.

“We need each other,” Felix whispered into Sam’s ear as they drifted off to sleep. “Don’t ever leave me.”

It was rare for Felix to be so open, and though Sam had heard the former phrase a handful of times, he’d never heard the latter.

“...I won’t.”

 

* * *

 

“You can’t possibly hope to eat all that.”

“Maybe not,” Felix said with a shrug, “but what’s the use of having all this money saved up if I’m not gonna use it?”

“It’s our rent,” Sam said.

Felix rolled his eyes. “C’mon, just this once. Besides, don’t you wanna see the, uh...” he trailed off, eyeing the diner’s menu. “...‘ _Super Mega Waffle Tower’_ in person?”

Sam sipped at his water and remarked, “I thought you swore off waffles after _Roscoe’s_.”

“Yeah, because I ate too fucking many, and I only ate so many because I was high as shit.”

“I remember,” Sam said. “Vividly.”

“Well, there you have it. I’ll be fine this time,” Felix said and crossed his arms.

 

* * *

 

“...Shut up.”

“I can’t be held responsible for your imagination’s perception of what I haven’t said,” Sam replied.

“.....”

“However correct it may be.”

“ _Shut up_.”

 

* * *

 

“So I know I said I wasn’t gonna eat for a week like two hours ago, but I’m kinda starving. Any chance we can stop somewhere?”

 

* * *

 

“Since this is our last motel stay for a while, we should do something to celebrate it, don’t you think?”

Sam turned towards the bed, raising an eyebrow. “‘A while’? We’re only visiting my parents for a week.”

Felix insistently bounced in place. “ _C’mon, Sammy_. It’s not every day we get to fuck somewhere like this,” he whined. “Let’s open the curtains a little, at least.”

Sam said nothing.

Felix still hadn’t mastered the art of puppy eyes.

Sam sighed and approached the curtains anyway.

 

* * *

 

“I’m so bored...”

“We’re nearly there.”

“You’ve been saying that the whole day.”

“Because it’s true.”

Felix huffed and shifted in his seat. “Truth or dare.”

“That game doesn’t work in a car, especially not when one of the two participants is driving it.”

“Killjoy.”

 

* * *

 

They arrived at Sam’s house in the evening, and were greeted with open arms and a warm dinner.

The conversation was pleasant, and Sam’s parents were highly interested to hear how Los Angeles had been treating them since their first visit.

When the time for bed came, Sam received yet more hugs from his parents. Felix’s cheerful onlooking was interrupted by Sam’s mother hugging him as well, and with that, they all headed to bed.

Sam brushed his teeth and walked into his room to find Felix already under the covers, eyes glinting in the dark.

“Remember when we jerked off here?” he asked.

“I do.”

Felix scooted aside as Sam joined him. It was a tight fit, but neither of them minded.

“I was so fucking turned on, you have no idea,” Felix said, pressing up against Sam and running a hand down his torso. “I knew your dick was gonna be big, but _wow_.” The hand settled over his crotch, squeezing him through the fabric.

“Was its size that important?” Sam breathed, rolling his hips.

“Mm, well, it’s definitely a bonus,” Felix answered, reaching under Sam’s waistband and grabbing hold of him. “One thing’s for sure: I wouldn’t ride you nearly as much if your dick wasn’t huge.”

As if to accentuate his point, Felix sat up and pulled Sam’s pajamas aside, rapidly working him to a full erection.

“We’ll be too noisy,” Sam protested even as he kept thrusting into Felix’s hand.

“I’ll be quiet if you’ll be quiet.”

“That never works...”

Felix pulled down his own pajamas and quipped, “Then we better try harder.”

 

* * *

 

Sam awoke to the smell of breakfast and carefully extracted himself from Felix’s grasp.

It had only been a few months since they last visited his parents, but he missed sitting down at breakfast with them all the same.

 

* * *

 

“It seems that your place in Los Angeles has thick walls,” his father commented.

Sam tilted his head.

“Who’s gonna be able to sleep with all that racket that you two made?”

_Oh_.

Sam’s mother’s eyes widened. “Don’t be so mocking!” she chided his father, nevertheless sounding amused. She turned to Sam and assured, “Don’t worry, Sami. We didn’t hear anything.”

Sam’s father gave a noncommittal shrug down at what remained of his breakfast.

At least it wasn’t the most embarrassing thing the two of them had been caught doing.

 

* * *

 

By the time Felix emerged from the bedroom, breakfast was over and Sam had moved to the couch.

His mother was getting ready to go shopping for cake ingredients, given that she planned to bring one to the party, and was in the middle of detailing her plans when Felix shuffled into their line of sight.

“Hi, Felix!” she greeted. “I made breakfast, but it’s probably cold now.”

He waved a hand. “Nah, that’s fine. Thanks!” he said, moving to the couch and taking a seat.

She smiled at him and turned back to Sam. “I’ll be back in an hour. Then you’ll help me with the cake?”

“Of course,” Sam replied.

“Oh, you’re gonna bake again?” Felix asked delightedly.

Sam nodded. “We always bake together.”

Felix glanced between them. “You do? That’s adorable.”

Sam shot him a look.

“What? It _is_ ,” Felix said.

Sam’s mother smiled. “It is,” she agreed.

Felix beamed.

“Okay, I’m ready to go,” Sam’s mother said, turning towards the door. Suddenly, she stopped, feeling around in her pockets until she pulled out a scrap of paper. “Ah, I have the shopping list.” She tucked it into her purse and chuckled, “That way we don’t repeat last time.”

Sam studiously observed the nearest wall.

“Bye!” she called, and both of them bid her farewell.

The door shut and there was silence.

Felix turned to Sam.

“...Wanna repeat last time?”

Sam glared at him.

 

* * *

 

“Party’s already started, huh?” Felix asked.

Sam looked out the window and spotted his aunt’s house. He could just barely see tables set up around the backyard, along with a smattering of people, but more evident was the music thrumming through the air. Whether it was originating from within the house or behind it was impossible to tell and, as Sam knew from personal experience, ultimately didn’t matter.

“Somewhat,” he said. “It’s ‘started’ the same way that Halloween ‘starts’ on the first of October.”

“Nice. Won’t the neighbors get annoyed though?”

Sam’s mother laughed. “That’s why you invite them too! They can’t complain with free food and friendly people,” she said.

Felix nodded. “Good point.”

Despite their earliness, they were forced to park about a house away.

“Geez, are all these cars just for your aunt’s party?”

Sam’s mother answered for him, an extended, “ _Yep_.”

His father added, “I hope you’re not claustrophobic, because there’s just going to be more and more people as the night goes on.”

Felix grinned. “Nah, I’m looking forward to it!”

The four of them climbed out of the car and made their way towards the house, Sam’s parents slightly ahead.

“So,” Felix said, glancing at Sam. “Any last minute things I should know?”

Sam thought it over. “I don’t think so. It’s probably not that different from parties you’ve been to. Maybe louder.”

“I can handle louder,” Felix said as they reached the front door.

A press of the doorbell, a brief moment of silence, and then the door was opening.

What followed was a frenzied minute of hugs and ‘how are you’s, until finally Aunt Monica was face to face with him and Felix.

“Sami, how are you? Look at you, you’re so big!” she exclaimed, gripping him in a bone-crushing hug.

“Hi, Aunt Monica,” he wheezed out, taking a breath as soon as she let him go.

Her attention turned to Felix, who offered a smile. “You must be Felix! Oh, I have heard so much about _you!”_ she said, and promptly pulled Felix into what was likely another bone-crushing hug.

“Nice to meet you,” Felix gasped out, patting her back much like a wrestler tapping out of a match.

She released him and he instantly took a step behind Sam.

“We have _got_ to talk while you’re here,” she said, ushering them in and shutting the door. “But please, make yourselves at home, enjoy the party. We can talk later!”

And with that, she scurried off down the hall with Sam’s mother hot on her heels, already discussing who had arrived and who was expected within the next hour.

Sam’s father sighed and turned to Sam and Felix. “Well, I guess I’ll go outside,” he said. “You two have fun. Don’t get into trouble, okay?”

“Sure thing,” Felix said.

They watched Sam’s father totter off until he rounded the corner.

Then it was just the two of them and the bass pounding through the air.

“So what now?” Felix asked.

Sam frowned. As much as he’d like to, he couldn’t get away with not giving out some basic greetings, at least for the relatives he knew decently well. On the bright side, arriving early meant that he wasn’t particularly expected to greet those who arrived afterwards. If they sought him out, that was another story, but for the most part, he could relax.

“Now we go say hi to everyone I know. And some of the ones I don’t know, if they’re with the ones I do.”

“Makes sense,” Felix said. “Lead the way.”

 

* * *

 

“So how many of these people actually know we’re together?” Felix asked.

Sam gave a vague shrug. “Most of them, I imagine. The rest are either in denial or haven’t heard. But they probably will now. I’d be surprised if they aren’t told as soon as we leave the conversation.”

Felix laughed. “Well, if it were up to me, no one’s gonna have any doubts come midnight,” he said with a wink.

Sam was spared from having to answer by Diana’s arrival.

“Sami!” she yelled out, heading straight for him.

He held his arms out and, sure enough, she ran headlong into them for a hug.

“How have you been?” she asked, pulling away and spotting Felix. “Oh! Felix, right? I’m Diana, Sam’s cousin.”

Felix offered a grin and held out a hand. “That’s right! Pleasure to meet you, Diana.”

She straightened up and put on her haughtiest expression as she looked down at Felix’s hand. “ _Really?”_

Felix’s grin faltered, but then she cracked a smile and laughed.

“C’mon, hug?” she asked, holding out her arms instead.

The interaction seemed to have left Felix nonplussed, but he recovered after a couple seconds, tentatively holding out his own arms. Immediately, Diana stepped forward and wrapped him up in her hold, rocking him back and forth a few times.

“That’s for being a good boyfriend,” she said as she released him. “You really brought Sami out of his shell.”

Felix somehow grinned wider. “It definitely wasn’t easy, but I’m glad _someone_ appreciates all my hard work,” he boasted.

“ _Sami_ ,” Diana said, turning to level him with a stern look. “You didn’t say he was funny too!”

“He usually isn’t,” Sam replied, which earned him twin looks of mock offense.

It was going to be a long night.

 

* * *

 

As it turned out, Diana only stayed a short while longer, given that she was only halfway through greeting everyone.

“I’ll catch up with you guys later!” she said, and with that, she was gone.

After a pause, Felix said, “She’s like a hot girl version of you.”

Sam shot him a look.

“What?” Felix asked. “It’s true.”

“Would you rather be dating my cousin?” Sam asked, more out of genuine curiosity than any actual jealousy.

Felix rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. I worked hard to win you over. That shit was an _investment_.”

Sam just barely kept a smile at bay.

 

* * *

 

“Sheesh, it’s like everyone multiplied. When the fuck did all these people show up?”

“That’s how it always is,” Sam said. “But there’s still a few hours to go. More people will show up.”

Felix grimaced. “Damn, your dad wasn’t kidding about the claustrophobia thing, was he?”

“Would you rather leave?” Sam asked.

“Who do you take me for?” Felix scoffed. “Let’s _party_.”

 

* * *

 

“Fireworks?” Felix asked.

“Yes, it’s dark enough,” Sam said. “They’ll be starting soon, if they haven’t already. The music makes it hard to tell.”

Felix let out a strangled laugh. “Man, your aunt sure got lucky with her neighbors.”

“It’s amazing what people will put up with for some home-cooked food,” Sam said. “But I think they enjoy themselves aside from that too. They keep showing up, so that must count for something.”

 

* * *

 

Outside, the fireworks were indeed in full swing, in addition to dining and dancing.

Sam still hadn’t been able to pinpoint the source of the music.

“Hey, let’s get some snacks and hang out a while,” Felix suggested.

Sam nodded, and they were seated at a table in a matter of minutes, plates full of various types of food. Despite Felix’s best efforts, they hadn’t been able to bring back a sampling of everything available, even between the two of them.

“Did _everyone_ bring something? How’s all this supposed to get finished in a single night?”

“Not everyone,” Sam said, already picking at his plate, “but the people who do are extremely dedicated. And you’d be surprised, there’s generally very little left by morning.”

Felix let out a disbelieving puff of air but turned his attention to their plates. “Oh, that looks good,” he said, nodding his head towards something on Sam’s plate. “Gimme a bite.”

 

* * *

 

Diana joined them after a few minutes. “How’s everything going so far?” she asked.

“Interesting,” Felix said. “Gotta say, Sammy made a big deal about the dancing, and yeah, there’s music and some dancing. But when’s the real action gonna start?”

She exaggeratedly mimed peeking at a nonexistent watch on her wrist. “Oh, I dunno. Give or take an hour? I wouldn’t eat all that if you’re planning on dancing anytime soon though.”

“Pshhh, don’t underestimate me,” Felix said, though he pushed his plate the slightest bit away. “Sammy might be a problem though.”

Sam gave him a questioning look.

“You’re gonna dance with me, right?” Felix asked.

“...I suppose.”

“Great! Then no more eating, we’ve gotta listen to Diana’s advice. She _is_ the dancing queen after all, right?”

Diana laughed. “Oh, you,” she said. “So tell me. Can you actually dance?”

Felix’s offended look was back. “Of course I can dance!”

She gave him a condescending smile. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“Wow, _rude_ ,” Felix said. “She really is you, Sammy.”

Diana gave Sam a questioning look.

“I’ll explain later,” he said.

Her next look clearly broadcasted her intentions to hold him to that, but it was gone as soon as it appeared, replaced by another smile sent Felix’s way. “Well, whether or not you can dance doesn’t really matter. No one’s gonna judge you tonight, and there’s plenty of other bad dancers. The neighbors, mostly.”

She stole a bread roll from Sam’s plate and continued, “What _does_ matter is what you’re willing to dance. Just about everything played tonight’s gonna be fast. It’s a bit more nuanced than that, but that’s the general idea. Beyond that, your choices are dancing together or dancing separately. Sure, you can do whatever you want, but some songs are just meant to be danced a certain way, y’know?”

Sam continued picking at his food as Diana gave Felix a crash course in what the next few hours would entail.

 

* * *

 

“I’d say things have picked up,” Felix commented, gesturing at the house.

What little of the inside could be seen was clearly packed with people, most dancing but a few content to stand around talking.

Sam took a breath. “Do you want to dance?”

Felix’s mouth drew back in a smirk. “I thought you’d never ask,” he said, instantly standing from his chair.

Sam prepared himself for what was sure to be an unforgettable experience.

 

* * *

 

Felix, it soon became apparent, could _not_ dance.

 

* * *

 

“How the hell are you doing that?” Felix asked, hands emphatically gesturing at Sam’s hips.

“Doing what?”

“That!”

Felix attempted to mimic the move and Sam wasn’t quick enough to stop himself from laughing. It earned him a glare, so he stifled it and attempted to compensate.

“I can try to teach you,” he offered.

“Fine,” Felix said. “What do I do?”

Sam took a deep breath.

This was it, the moment of truth.

A new song started, and he stepped forward to place his hands on Felix’s hips.

“Just go with the flow,” he said, and began moving them from side to side in time with the music.

Felix’s movements were stiff at first, even more than they’d already been, but bit by bit, he began loosening up. Sam continued guiding his hips, and there was soon a give to them where there hadn’t been before.

“You’re improving,” Sam murmured.

“Yeah, well, I have a good teacher,” Felix replied, stare fixed on Sam.

Sam said nothing, merely continuing to sway Felix’s hips.

“By the way, Sammy,” Felix breathed out, “I’m pretty sure we’re gaining an audience.”

Sam nodded. He’d expected as much. “Have you got the basic movement down?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Sam stepped away and offered a single hand.

“Then let’s dance.”

 

* * *

 

“Shit, this is faster than the last song.”

“You’ll manage.”

“No, I won’t. C’mon, hands on hips.”

“You’re doing just fine.”

“Don’t kill my vibes, Sammy.”

“You’re insufferable.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey.”

“What?”

“Do you think everyone’s gonna think you top me because you’re leading?”

“ _Felix_.”

“It’s a legitimate question! You _are_ pretty good at it though. We should switch more often.”

“ _Felix!”_

 

* * *

 

“Train!” Diana shouted, appearing out of nowhere.

Felix looked taken aback. “Wh—?”

He didn’t get a chance to finish his question before she was grabbing his hands and turning away, placing them on her waist. Sam took hold of Felix’s waist in turn, and in a matter of seconds, the room’s entire populace had perfectly formed a train and began to move, shuffling through as much of the house as was viably possible.

When there was nowhere left to go, the train steadily moved outdoors, where the music they were going along to somehow managed to retain its volume and quality. Nearly all the backyard’s dwellers proceeded to latch onto the train, which began making its way around the house’s exterior, circling back around to its front door just as the song ended.

Another song immediately started, but the train dissolved all the same, people breaking away to dance individually once again.

“Fuck, this is tiring,” Felix huffed. “Look, the food’s right there. Let’s take a break.”

Diana grinned and asked, “Having fun?”

“You bet.”

 

* * *

 

The three of them settled down at one of the backyard’s tables with some refreshments. Sam asked Diana how her night was going and she launched into a detailed recap, all while Felix took the opportunity to gorge himself.

When he finished, he resorted to staring at them, entirely too innocent to be anything but suspicious.

Diana gradually fell silent as both she and Sam turned to face Felix.

He continued staring.

Sam narrowed his eyes. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop,” he said.

Felix gave him a wounded look. “I didn’t say anything though! Besides, can’t a guy take in the sights?”

“Your thoughts are too loud.”

 

* * *

 

At some point, Diana went off again, leaving Sam and Felix alone at their table.

“So do you usually dance at these things?” Felix asked. “Like, you personally.”

Sam shrugged. “Somewhat. Mostly later in the night.”

“Oh? Do you have anyone to dance with? Or do you just go it alone?”

“Diana’s always been happy to dance with me. Well, with most people, really. Sometimes I get asked by other relatives. Definitely Aunt Monica. My mother too.”

Felix smirked, and at Sam’s curious look, said, “Your ‘mother’. So formal. It’s cute.”

Sam blinked, unsure how to reply, but Felix gave him no chance to.

“Anyway, I’m ready to get back into the swing of things,” he said. “Let’s go!”

 

* * *

 

The first notes of the next song began and Felix’s eyes widened in recognition. “Is that what I think it is?” he asked.

“The Macarena,” Sam confirmed. Then, just because he felt it was necessary, added, “The _good_ version.”

“Oh, right. Because there’s that English remix they made?”

“Yes,” Sam said. “...It’s not good.”

Felix raised an eyebrow. “And this one is?”

“In comparison,” Sam said, and led Felix over to a clear space of the room. “You know the moves?”

“Uh, probably? I used to.”

“Then just follow my lead.”

The lyrics kicked in, and the pair of them started going through the motions. Arms out, turned over, elbows, head, crossed, uncrossed, wiggle, and hop.

Felix stumbled the first couple times, but it seemed that his muscle memory gradually took over. He tried his best to follow Sam’s moves during the extra segments, and though he wasn’t a great dancer by any means, he managed to hold his own. With practice, Sam believed he might even become comfortably decent.

“I gotta say,” Felix huffed out during the song’s purely instrumental segment, “seeing an entire house of people doing the Macarena really takes me back.”

Sam smiled and answered, “I’d say the same, but we do this every single year.”

“Lucky you,” Felix got out before the lyrics kicked in again.

They finished off what remained of the dance and made their way to the dining tables as the next song started.

“Y’know,” Felix said as he poured himself a drink, “I don’t really remember the English one, but this one sounded pretty good. Lots more lyrics too. Actually, what _is_ the Macarena about anyway?”

 

* * *

 

“Dude, that’s fucked up.”

Sam nodded.

 

* * *

 

Felix glanced around. “Whoa, this one has a whole routine to go with it too, huh?” he observed.

“It’s simple,” Sam said. “First you do this”—he demonstrated the hand motion—”then this”—the thumb jabs—”and this”—up went the arms—”which is when you move your legs.”

Felix clumsily followed along and eventually got the hang of it. “Okay,” he said as he repeated the moves over and over, “does this one have some freaky lyrics too?”

Sam hesitated.

 

* * *

 

“Either of you two wanna dance?” Diana asked, hands held out towards both of them and her smile expectant.

Felix gave a chuckle and took a step back. “Well, I wouldn’t wanna impose. Sammy tells me he usually dances with you,” he said, lightly shoving Sam at her. “You two have fun, I’ll be waiting my turn.”

He beamed at them and made a shooing motion.

Diana didn’t need to be told twice, instantly grabbing Sam and pulling him closer to the main floor space. When they were far enough from Felix that the music would successfully keep him from overhearing them, she switched to Spanish and asked Sam, “Is he always so gracious or is he just acting?”

Sam’s eye roll couldn’t be drowned out by the music, but given that he was facing away from Felix, it didn’t really matter. “Not at all,” he grumbled. “He only wants to give a good impression.”

“Well, he’s doing it,” Diana said. “You should’ve heard how Monica and my mom were talking. They find him _so_ funny and friendly. And that he’s kept your interest? He’s practically already one of the family.”

Sam idly wondered if his mother had been interrogated yet.

As if reading his mind, Diana added, “I think they’ve held back from asking your parents much, but it’s a matter of time.”

She was right. But that was something to worry about later.

Now was time for partying.

 

* * *

 

By the time Sam and Diana returned to Felix, he’d managed to get himself another plate of food and appeared to have already worked his way through half of it.

“Enjoying yourself?” Sam asked.

“Absolutely,” Felix said. “Great food, great view. What’s not to enjoy?”

Diana eyed his plate. “I thought I was promised a dance.”

Felix scrambled to set his plate aside and shoved it at Sam. “Hang onto this for me?” he asked.

“Fine.”

Felix triumphantly grinned and let Diana drag him away.

Sam watched them for a few minutes, then eyed the plate in his hand.

Felix could always get more food.

 

* * *

 

“Dude! I said to watch my food!”

“I believe the words you used were ‘hang onto’.”

“He’s right,” weighed in Diana.

Felix whipped his head back and forth between them. “I can’t believe you’re gonna gang up on me like this,” he sputtered.

Sam sighed and headed back to the food table.

 

* * *

 

Felix happily leaned back in his seat, patting his stomach. “So how long until midnight?” he asked.

Sam racked his mind. He’d glanced at the clock when they were inside, but he couldn’t be sure how much time had passed since then. “Around half an hour,” he guessed.

“Is it really, or are you just guessing?”

“It’s a calculation.”

Felix grinned. “Says our resident math expert.”

Sam’s glare was interrupted by the beginnings of a countdown being chanted from inside.

“‘Half an hour’, huh?”

“...Be quiet.”

“Make me,” Felix said, standing and pulling Sam along.

Nearly all the party’s attendees had squeezed into the living room, with only those nearest the television actually able to know the exact time. Felix somehow worked his way through the crowd with Sam in tow, only stopping once they were right in the midst of it.

“ ** _TEN!_** _”_

Felix turned to face Sam.

“ ** _NINE!_** _”_

“Ready?” he asked.

“ ** _EIGHT!_** _”_

Sam nodded.

“ ** _SEVEN!_** _”_

“Good.”

“ ** _SIX!_** _”_

Sam gulped.

“ ** _FIVE!_** _”_

Felix looked positively delighted.

“ ** _FOUR!_** _”_

They stared each other down...

“ ** _THREE!_** _”_

...and waited...

“ ** _TWO!_** _”_

...waited...

“ ** _ONE!_** _”_

.....

“ ** _HAPPY NEW YEAR!_** _”_

Felix pressed their mouths together.

The kiss was chaste, though he did briefly swipe his tongue against Sam’s lips.

After a few seconds, he pulled back with a grin and remarked, “That went pretty well, I think.”

 

* * *

 

Felix held up his phone towards Sam. “Meg and Mace say hi.”

Sure enough, the screen displayed a short message wishing them both a happy New Year.

“Did you reply?”

“Not yet,” Felix said, bringing the phone back to himself and starting to type. “Want me to say anything for you?”

Sam thought about it.

“Tell them thank you, and that I wish them the same.”

Felix nodded, typing away.

“...And that I miss them.”

Felix looked up at him, eyebrows raised.

“Is that so surprising?” Sam asked.

“No...” Felix said, frowning down at his phone for a moment. “But it's weird to hear you say it like that.”

“How else could I say it?”

Felix shrugged and finished typing at his phone. “I dunno. I always forget how blunt you are about these things,” he said. “And not just when it comes to me.”

Sam blinked. Was that a hint of dejection in Felix’s tone?

“If you'd like me to give my honest thoughts about you too, all you have to do is ask.”

Felix’s eyes were scrutinizing. “Fine, humor me,” he said, picking at his newest plate of food. “Gimme your New Year’s thoughts.”

Sam considered all that had happened over the past year, remembering how different everything had been at the start of it. A year ago, he'd already changed so much from his previous self, and now? He was practically a whole different person.

But some things never changed, and integrating Felix into his life was proof enough. If Sam, ever indecisive as he was, could retain the core of himself around Felix, whose influence seemed to extend far beyond the average person's, then it stood to reason that he'd always be Sam, and Felix would always be Felix.

“I enjoy being with you,” Sam began. “I did a year ago, and I do now. I think we’ve both changed since then, but I do still want you in my life. We’re very different people, and sometimes we don’t get along, which is fine. You’re always interesting and I—”

“...You what?” Felix asked.

Sam hesitated, taking in Felix’s wide eyes and tense posture before finishing his train of thought.

“I love that about you.”

There was a pause, then Felix let out a huff of laughter and looked away, grinding his jaw.

“Don’t... Don’t say that.”

Sam tilted his head.

“Why not?”

“Just don’t. At least, not yet.”

“Then when?”

Felix shrugged, aimlessly casting his gaze around.

“I dunno. But not yet.”

“...Alright.”

Felix nodded and finally looked back at Sam.

“Now, then. Let’s see how much food’s left!”

 

* * *

 

“So what’s your plan after all this?” Diana asked, looking back and forth between them.

Felix blinked lazily at her. “What, like after we get back to L. A.?”

She nodded.

“I dunno. We both go back to work, I guess.”

“Auditions aren’t work,” Sam contributed.

Felix gasped in mock offense, the effect lessened by the way it tapered into a barely repressed yawn. “Of course they are, Sammy, I put loads of work into ’em.”

“Auditions don’t pay rent,” Sam replied.

“ _Yet_ ,” Felix said, turning back to Diana. “But yeah, that’s pretty much it. Well, he also wanted to show me _Cardcaptor Sakura_ , said there’s parts of it I’ll probably like. Can’t imagine what gave him that idea.”

“There are parts of _Sailor Moon_ and _Utena_ you’d enjoy too, if you gave them a chance,” Sam sighed.

“Yeah, well. I’m not about to watch that many episodes, and _Utena’s_ weird as shit.”

Sam nodded. “So it has to be _Sakura_.”

“Don’t get me wrong, that one’s weird too,” Felix said, slumping forward on the table with another yawn. “Too fucking cutesy.”

Diana laughed. “I don’t know about that, they’re all pretty fucking cutesy,” she said. “I think Sami just likes cute things. You should be flattered.”

Felix leaned back in his seat and shot Sam a sleepy grin.

“Oh, I am.”

 

* * *

 

Hours later, the crowd had dwindled down and the party had fizzled out.

Sam and Felix were given a single room with a single bed, and though it was large enough for them to have some space to themselves, they pressed close to each other instead.

Felix’s hand brushed over Sam’s crotch.

“I’m _not_ going to have sex with you in my aunt’s house.”

“But _Sammy_ ,” Felix whined. “Come on, can you blame me? All that dancing, a romantic midnight kiss... I swear I’ve been wanting to fuck you this whole time. Or have you fuck me. I’m not feeling all that picky right now.”

“There’s still people awake, Felix.”

“So? We’ll be quiet.”

“We’ve never been quiet, and those people are my _relatives_ ,” Sam growled.

Felix’s eyebrows pulled together. “We fucked at your parents’ house.”

“That was an inevitability, and parents are different from relatives.”

“So you prefer fucking there?”

“...No, but—”

Sam barely stifled a gasp as Felix slithered a hand under his waistband and enveloped him, grinning triumphantly.

“At least let me suck you off,” Felix said as his fingers rhythmically squeezed. “No mess, pretty quiet. Actually, wait, we should sixty-nine. Definitely no mess, double the quiet. Whataya’ say, Sammy?”

“ _Absolutely not_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Sam teaches Felix the moves to is 'Aserejé' by Las Ketchup, which [I once made Locus (and Lopez) dance to in MMD](https://www.pillowfort.social/posts/526110). Similarly, [I once made Locus (and the rest of the RvB Spanish squad) dance the Macarena](https://www.pillowfort.social/posts/529767).
> 
> Includes some poignant art by the hilarious moxrider-is-canon on Tumblr:  
> <https://66.media.tumblr.com/4fa76fc3acaac11d157fc9fafcd81546/tumblr_messaging_pn1whaKhUz1vmp96q_1280.png>
> 
> Includes some incredible art by the wonderful yayneloveart on Pillowfort:  
> <https://www.pillowfort.social/posts/567085>
> 
> Like I did with the fic's first half, I wrote up an [author's commentary](https://panpinecone.dreamwidth.org/1297.html). Check it out if you've got unanswered questions, wanna hear my thoughts, or just really wanna know what type of candy Felix's family sells!
> 
> I want to thank each and every one of you. This was a hell of a journey, and who doesn't want company on a journey? I promised myself I'd finish _In The Spotlight_ no matter what, but knowing there were others reading along was pure motivation in and of itself. So, though I may not be able to say that I couldn't have done it without you, I _can_ say that the journey has been absolutely incredible, and it's all because of you.
> 
> **_Thank you_.**


End file.
